Just Another Open Book
by of untold secrets
Summary: A collection of stories to guard from attacks of What-Ifs, over-active imagination, hyper muses, and random thoughts in the middle of the night. All genres, all lengths, all pairings.
1. Blood

****

So.

**This story will probably just be a one-stop-dump for all of my various Yami no Matsuei oneshots. (I'm too lazy to make seperate stories out of them) They will be of different writing styles, stories, of different characters. Some of them may not make much sense, but that is most likely how it's written.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei.**

**This first oneshot will be kinda depressing and dark, but not all of them will be...**

**Review will be appreciated!**

**Read on...**

Blood.

It was the life of all creatures, the anchor that tied them to Earth.

It was the vibrant redness of life, the dull, heavy burgundy of death. It was the forsaken scarlet of war, and the sinful ruby of murder.

It was the life of every person he ever killed, every soul he ever damned.

It was everywhere.

Could you not see it?

Staining his hands, streaking his shirt, dripping down the walls. The blood of everything he had ever killed, haunting him.

He couldn't get away from it.

* * *

"Tsuzuki? You're spacing out again."

"Oh…what? Sorry, Hisoka. It's just that those cookies look sooooo good!"

"Baka."

* * *

Could Hisoka not see it?

Then again, Hisoka was an innocent. _He_ didn't kill so many people. _He_ was clean.

Not him. He was a murderer. He didn't deserve to live.

_Monster._

* * *

"Tsuzuki? Want the rest of my pie? I can't finish it."

"Sure, Tatsumi! Sankyuu!"

* * *

How many had he killed, now? Fifty? A hundred? The memories were fading…

_No! Don't forget! You must never forget. That is the least you can do. Honour the memories of the ones you have killed._

* * *

"Tsuzuki? Hisoka? You two have another case. Here is the file…oh, and bring me back a souvenir. The crab cakes are good this time of year, I hear."

"Of course, Konoe."

"Oh, and don't blow the money again. We're in debt enough without _you_, Tsuzuki."

"Hey? I don't waste money! It's all for a good cause!"

"Pfft. Yeah right."

* * *

_More killing? More sins to add to your already bloated pile?_

He couldn't help it. It was his job. He killed, even without meaning to.

It was his nature.

_Nature to murder_.

* * *

"Now, where's this boy? Two blocks down and on the third floor of the fifth apartment building, right?"

"He's in the hospital, idiot. He's due to die."

"Oh…right."

* * *

Hospital. He hated hospitals. He died in one of them.

They were places of mourning, of death. Usually from him.

_Freak._

_Soulless._

_Killer._

* * *

"Hey, Hisoka! Why so glum?"

"There's too much death here. Too much sadness, despair. It's suffocating."

"Why? Hospitals are places of healing. See how happy that girl's parents are? She's returning to her home. Hospitals should be places of healing and thankfulness."

"I guess. Thanks."'

"Your welcome!"

"Hey-! Stop hugging me, baka. People are staring. Get off!"

* * *

Not even Hisoka wanted him.

_Hisoka never wanted you._

He was worthless.

_A dead weight._

Useless.

_Unneeded._

If he died, the work at the Division would be the same. Tatsumi would be happier, probably.

_Why stay?_

* * *

"There. Another job done. Are you okay, Tsuzuki? You don't look so good."

"Nah, I'm fine. That piece of cake must have disagreed with me…"

"Which piece? You've been eating all day!"

* * *

Another life gone, from his own hands. The soul was so keen to live, holding onto this world so tightly. What right did he have to take that away?

_No right, that's what._

The boy had hated him. He saw it in the his eyes.

_Pruning others for the sake of one…_

* * *

"Tsuzuki, are you all right? After Kyoto, I was worried about you…"

"I'm fine, see, Tatsumi? I'm smiling."

"That's the lemon muffin talking."

"S'not!"

* * *

Fake pity. Deep inside, none of them care for him. He knows.

And why should they? He was a demon. He didn't deserve it.

* * *

"Going home already, Tsuzuki?"

"Yeah, Watari. I feel so tired. Long day, you know."

"Sure, okay. G'night!"

"Thanks."

* * *

He was a monster.

_Demon._

Killer.

_Murderer._

Freak.

_Sinner._

No better than Muraki.

_Worse than Muraki._

At least Muraki was honest with everyone.

Why live?

* * *

"Hey, Hisoka? Want to walk home?"

"Fine. Why?"

"No reason."

(long pause)

"Hey…Hisoka?"

"Yeah, what?"

"…Actually, never mind."

* * *

Why live?

Why should he live

_When everyone else has died?_

Murderers

_Don't deserve to live._

They should

_Die._

I can't be allowed to live.

_See all the blood on your hands?_

Not even my death can atone for everything.

_But it would be a start._

I could

_Wash away their blood with yours._

And then finally

_Rest. Although you don't deserve even that._

But

_It is the best. It is for the best._

I can't be allowed to live.

_Murderers should die._

Right. An eye for an eye

_And a life for a life._

Die…

_It wouldn't be even close to balancing the scale, but it would be a start._

That's true.

_Why wait?_

* * *

"Good night, Tsuzuki."

"Bye, Hisoka."

* * *

Why stay?

_You can't live, not with the blood of all those innocents on your hands._

I can't die, not with demon blood in my veins.

_You can_

Try. I know.

_Then why wait?_

In the privacy of my apartment.

_No one will rescue you out of pity now._

No one?

_No one. You will finally finish what you have always wanted._

What I've always needed.

_Right._

Do you see the blood?

_The ceiling, the walls, the floors, __your hands, soaking your shirt…_

Do you see it?

_Yes, I do. _

I am

_You after all._

We are

_One and the same._

The blood…

_It's everywhere._

I can't get away from it.

_Everywhere._

It was every person I have ever killed.

_Every soul you have ever damned._

It was

_The vibrant redness of life._

It was

_The heavy burgundy of death._

I can't escape it.

_There is no escaping it._

It's all…

_Your fault._

It's everywhere.

_Your actions._

Everywhere.

_Their blood._

My blood.

_Blood._

Gone.


	2. Hisoka centered

**So...second chapter is here!**

**And I've posted up two oneshots instead of just one, since they're so short...**

Hisoka knows a lot.

Of course, being an empath, that was almost a given. Well, he knows a lot more than you think.

For example, he knows that Terazuma had just bought a new pack of cigarettes of the brand he had swore he hated, from a nearby gas station.

He knows where Chief Konoe's new tie - the one that he had been searching for, on and off for weeks now - was. (strange that Konoe didn't think to ask Hisoka about it)

He knows that Watari's last eight sex-change experiments hadn't worked, although Watari promises that this one will 'for sure!'

He also knows - Hisoka's ears twitched as sounds of crashing and rapid footsteps sounded from the room next door.

"What do you mean you don't have the investigation report done yet, Tsuzuki? It was supposed to be handed in three days ago!"

"Sorry, Tatsumi! I'll get it in as soon as I can!"

Hisoka winces at the yelling.

Yes, he knows all that.

And Hisoka also knows when the break room needs to be restocked with coffee.

* * *

Love.

You didn't know the meaning of it.

You have read books about it hundreds of times, of course; had seen examples of it walking down the street. But what was it? You weren't sure.

You had never been taken care of by someone who had loved him. Or, if you had been, you were far too young to remember.

Well, now you think you know.

Love is the emotion of getting hugs and smiles just for existing.

Love is the feeling you have when you know you have a partner to rely on (or have said partner rely on him...)

Love is when you watch Tsuzuki scarf down his food.

It is the excitement of having someone care for you enough to walk you home at night (although you always refuse)

It is the desire to give your heart out to others, even if you're not sure you'll get it back.

It is the feeling you have while you're with Tsuzuki.

Actually, that last point wasn't very correct.

Love _was_ Tsuzuki.


	3. Role Reversal

**Summary: This is the reason why they don't drink coffee.**

**Warning: extreme OOCness**

It had been relatively quiet the last few weeks, which usually meant that something was going to happen.

And the fact that Watari had been hanging around the coffee machine should have already set off alarm bells ringing in their heads.

But they've overlooked the clues, and are getting what's coming to them.

It was lunch time in the break room.

"I don't feel so good," Tsuzuki moaned, setting his coffee down on the counter and clutching his head.

Hisoka was pale—well, paler than usual. "Me neither…"

Suddenly, another voice interrupted their short exchange, a voice so sickeningly saturated in love and lust that it was almost impossible to tell who spoke.

"Oh, Wakaba! How I love you!..."

All thoughts of sickness were forgotten, as everyone stared at Terazuma.

Wakaba cringed away. "Uh…Hajime? Are you feeling okay?..."

"I'm fine," Terazuma purred back. "I just miss you…You're brighter than all the stars in the sky, my dear..." He stepped forwards to hug the quickly panicking Wakaba.

"No, don't Hajime! Get away! You know what happens if—"

Too late. Poor Wakaba was left to frantically get away from the love-besotted black feline.

Blink.

"What just happened?" Hisoka wondered he took a sip of his coffee.

Tsuzuki shrugged, and reached for another donut, not caring in the least about what happened to his rival. He held the donut in his hand and stared at it, as if contemplating about the world, and all the strange happenings in it.

Tatsumi looked at Tsuzuki strangely. "Why aren't you eating that?" he asked. "Is there something wrong with it?"

Tsuzuki grimaced, and put it back. "You know, I don't feel so hungry anymore…and sugar is so fattening… I think I'll skip lunch today…"

Cue collective group gasp.

"What?" Tsuzuki asked innocently.

Tatsumi glared suspiciously at Watari. "What did you do this time?"

Watari laughed out loud. "It's my newest invention!" he said triumphantly. "A potion that alters a person's personality to be the exact _opposite_ of what it normally is! All you have to do is to mix it with a drink, and there you go. Genius, aren't I?"

"You mean…" Tatsumi looked into his coffee mug and gulped visibly. Then he swayed in his chair. "Why don't everyone take the rest of the week off?" he slurred, smiling widely, to everyone's horror. "After all, we've did more than 'nough work…" Eyes half-closed, he turned his head to face a metal bowl on the table that help an assortment of fruit. "OoOoOhhhh shinyyyyyy..."

Tsuzuki frowned. "Why? There's nothing to do—I can't be expected to lounge on a couch all day, eating junk food! Imagine all the time and money that'll go to waste. Can you give me some extra paperwork to do, please?"

O.o

"Yes!" Watari crowed. "It worked!"

It worked, indeed.

Tatsumi was falling asleep at the lunch table, snoring loudly and drooling. Small black z's flew out of his mouth only to drop onto the ground with a tiny _shatter._

Tsuzuki was sitting in a corner, watching everyone calmly. He adjusted his tie in the reflection of a nearby steel can while sipping a glass of water.

Hisoka was…well, let's just say that you _don't_ want to see the sixteen-year-old hyped up on one of Watari's potions. _Ever_.

"Whoohoo!" Hisoka shouted, running around the room while gorging himself on the sugar donut Tsuzuki had passed up on previously. "Whowants togo toapartytoniiight? Ilovelove_love _crowdsandpeopleand partiesandsugarand—" he crashed into the door frame and fell to the ground, unconscious, doing the whole world a favour.

Tsuzuki blinked at his fallen partner. Then, he shrugged, and leaned back into his chair as if bored out of his mind. "Hey, Watari?" he said to the chuckling scientist. "You'd better find a cure for this, you know."

A flurry of feathers suddenly rained down upon everyone.

"Ahh! My dear Tsuzuki!" Muraki said, stepping out of some random portal in the middle of the break room. "You look so beautiful today!" Tsuzuki's face was expressionless as the doctor came nearer.

Hisoka revived long enough to gag, then knocked himself out again.

"What're you doing here?" Tatsumi murmured, his head resting limply on his arms.

Muraki shrugged. "Well, the author decided that the story was getting a little boring so she sent me to liven things up a little." There was a loud crash from the distance. "Whoops. There goes the fourth wall. Gotta go!" He disappeared in a flurry of feathers.

"Well, okay then," Watari said, surveying the mess he had created. Tsuzuki was sitting emotionless in a corner, staring blankly ahead at the plate of sweets right in front of his nose. Hisoka was knocked out on the floor, pastry crumbs all over his face, and Tatsumi was sound asleep. Through the window, he could see Wakaba being chased a huge winged black cat, scattering ofuda papers everywhere.

Chief Konoe, who had been sitting quietly at the edge of the room all this time, finally spoke up. "You should fix this, Watari." He said.

Watari shrugged. "Maybe," he grinned, then strode out of the room with that classic mad-scientist expression on his face.

Konoe just sat in his chair, watching everything serenely, taking long sip of home-brewed tea from his canteen.

**Completely pointless, plotless, meaningless, and messed up. Fun to write :)**

**Here's a question: do you want a short, fluffy(ish) one-shot next, or a looooooong darker one-shot-story-thing? **


	4. Scene 1

**I decided to post the fluffy-ish chapter first because...well, you'll see in the next chapter (which WILL be the long dark story!)**

**Okay...I admit it. This ain't very fluffy in the sense of, you know...cuteness and stuff. But it is what it is, and _fluffy_ was the closest I could get to a description of it.**

**So...moving on...**

**Summary: Sometime between rouge demons and disastrous assignments, life at Meifu gets a chance to be its normal, everyday, if occasionally strange self. **

Scene One

[Setting: Tatsumi's office.]

(Tatsumi was working at his desk when Watari walks in—without knocking, as usual.)

"What do you want, Watari?"

"What do you mean?" (feigning innocence)

"You know what I mean."

"What? Can't a person walk in and not have a reason? Jeez. What's the world coming to these days?"

"Watari."

"Okay, okay! I was going to ask for an extension for—"

"No."

"What? I didn't even finish my sentence."

"No, you can't get an extension for your budget, and that's final."

"Aww! Come on—look, even 003's unhappy."

"You know, Watari, you should really give that owl a new name."

"A new name? Why?"

"What kind of name is '003'? It's just a number. Shouldn't a little owl deserve more than that?"

"Who are you and what have you done with Tatsumi?"

"Suit yourself. I've got work to do."

(pause)

"You know what, you're right. 003 _isn't_ a proper name for her. Hmm…I've got a new name!"

"What is it?"

"I'll call her Tatsumi!"

(You can guess that neither secretary nor owl liked that idea much.)

"Hey! Ouch! It was just a suggestion - yeesh! Stop that!"

* * *

**Soo...**

**This was originally intended as a double-drabble. (Seriously! It was 197 words on MS Word!) But for some reason, it grew and I went 'what the heck' and kept on writing...:P**


	5. Broken Lock & Lost Key pt 1, Discovery

**Yes - it's the promised new chapter! And yes, it's freakishly long!**

**(Translation: I got bored and found inspiration and wrote...and wrote and wrote and wrote...)**

**Actually, I meant this to be a oneshot. But somehow, my muse wouldn't let me go T.T So there's like, three or four other parts to this, each as long as this chapter.**

**This will really screw up the word count.**

**Anyway, so you guys have a choice - do you want just this chapter (and consider it a oneshot), or do you want the whole story?**

**...**

**Summary: "Tsuzuki, Hisoka, you have a new assignment. A man has been on the book for almost a century, yet refuses to die. The name? Tsuzuki Asato."**

**Note: This is a 'what if' fic. Meaning it's not here because of its awesomely good grammar, or of its well-made plot. It's just speculation of what the characters might to if _ _ _ _ _ happened.**

**Also note: Completely and utterly Tsuzuki-centric.**

**Moving on...**

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep.

_Smack._

Beep. Beep. Beep.

_Smack_.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"For goodness sake, stop beeping!"

Tsuzuki lifted his head to sleepily glare at his alarm clock, and saw...

"Crap! I was supposed to be at the office half an hour ago!"

* * *

"Late again I see."

Tsuzuki looked at the ground sheepishly, wiping crumbs from his chin-what remained of his hastily-eaten breakfast. "I didn't mean to, you see, Tatsumi -"

"Excuses, excuses. Do you realize how much money is wasted each time you are late? Next time, I will have to dock your paycheck."

"No! Please! I promise I'll be right on time tomorrow!"

Hisoka rolled his eyes. "Baka," he muttered under his breath.

"Anyway you two, you have a new assignment to complete. That is why we have called you in this morning."

Chief Konoe took a few sheets of paper off his desk and cleared his throat. "Because this division has been so busy the past few weeks, we didn't have enough time to notify you...we haven't even read this yet. But now that everybody is here, I suppose we should read the mission details now.

"Hmm...Tsuzuki and Hisoka, you two are to retrieve the soul of a man. It seems he was scheduled for death almost ninety years ago, and yet he still hasn't died. It must be one of the older files.

"Who is he?" Hisoka pressed.

"...The man's name...Tsuzuki Asato."

Stunned silence.

The second hand of a clock hanging on the wall ticked, its clicks now ominously loud. The wheels of Konoe's chair squeaked under his weight.

"You mean...are you sure..._him_?" Hisoka finally floundered, breaking the silence. He pointed at Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki was shocked silent, something that did not happen often.

"Are you sure that Tsuzuki - this Tsuzuki - is the one we're looking for?" Tatsumi asked, taking off his glasses and polishing them, a sure sign that he was either thinking or mentally panicking.

Konoe scanned the paper again, tense. "Oh yes, he's the one. There's a photo right here. Oh, and it seems that Hisoka will be partnered, not with Tsuzuki, but with Tatsumi." His voice was shaking.

"But...what? Do you mean Tsuzuki is still alive? Then -" Hisoka was interrupted.

"I'll be back in a moment," Tsuzuki said, expressionless, and left the room.

Hisoka made a move to follow, but Tatsumi stopped him. "Leave him be. Give him time to get used to this new...situation."

Slumped against the wall, Hisoka wondered aloud. "Tsuzuki is alive? But he can do ofuda, he has shikigami and speed and strength and all the characteristics that are given to shinigami. More, even..."

Tatsumi shrugged. "I don't know. Something is strange about this, but I'm not sure what. But right now, the question is what should we do? "

Konoe nodded. "Yes. The rules say that shinigami should value duty above friendship, and in this case -"

"I'm not killing Tsuzuki!"

Konoe looked surprised at the outburst. "Of course. But if you don't, your job and the integrity of this division is compromised."

Hisoka glared. "I don't care about division integrity, or my job, or anything! I. Am. Not. Killing. Tsuzuki."

Tatsumi's face was troubled. "Of course not. I'm sure we can work out some sort of resolution with this."

"We'd better."

Hisoka stormed out of the room.

* * *

_So I'm still alive..._

Tsuzuki stared at his outstretched hand. Sunlight dappled by the long branches of a willow tree that grew just outside a window danced across his fingers.

He was alive.

He could hear his heart beat in his chest, could feel the rising and falling of his breathing, as could any other shinigami. But he was different.

He knew he had something different from everyone else, but then again, so had Terazuma. But Tsuzuki had demon blood in his veins, so feeling...well, disconnected from everyone else was probably to be expected.

Still, to be alive...

_I never could kill myself_, he thought, chuckling bitterly.

Tsuzuki knew that many people in the building would kill for this opportunity, but not he. He didn't care for it.

Maybe before Kyoto, he would try to kill himself once again. Now, though, he was older and wiser...and didn't care for anything anymore.

Well, except for his friends.

He was too tired, had sinned too much, had seen too much of life for his liking. He just couldn't muster up the energy to care about things.

But of course he had to hide that from the rest. If they even got the whiff of something, they would be on to him like a pack of, well, of motherly hens. After Kyoto, they were as paranoid as anything.

This wasn't like that. He didn't want to die.

It's just that he didn't want to live, either.

This information, though, this changes everything. Tsuzuki just didn't know what to think, what to do, anymore.

He leaned against the brick wall and crossed his legs, closing his eyes.

Everything was so _complicated_.

"I'm not killing Tsuzuki!"

Hisoka's voice was so loud, he jumped, nearly bumping his head against the wall.

He turned around. Oh, the voices were coming from inside the window.

Tsuzuki smiled slightly, happy that Hisoka cared enough to yell, which was not something he did often. Well, not at other people. He listened harder.

"Of course. But if you don't, your job and the integrity of this division is compromised."

Konoes uncertain voice wafted through the thin glass of the window.

Wait...what? Hisoka's job?

He didn't want other people to suffer because of him. About that at least, he cared.

"I don't care about division integrity, or my job, or anything. I. Am. Not. Killing. Tsuzuki."

"Of course not. I'm sure we can work out some sort of resolution with this."

Typical Tatsumi. Of course, he would try to figure out some kind of solution - Tsuzuki just hoped it wouldn't bother the others too much.

"We'd better." Hisoka's footsteps, the door slamming, his footsteps fading now...

Hmm. He left. To where?

Tsuzuki was about to get up and find him when Konoe's voice reached his ears again.

"You do realize that, if you don't attempt this assignment, both yours and Hisoka's jobs will be on the chopping block? And with it your lives."

"Yes, I know." Tatsumi's voice was pained. "If shinigami lose their jobs, then they no longer have business in Meifu, and need to be rejudged. But if we don't bring in Tsuzuki's soul for judgment, then Enma will just send more shinigami after him. What do we do?"

He'd heard enough.

Tsuzuki rose, brushing leaves from his trench coat. Something was wrong...something was nagging in the corner of his mind, demanding his attention. He needed to know. He needed to move.

Not to find Hisoka, though.

He needed to see Enma-Diao.

* * *

In Hisoka' mind, everything was already decided.

No way was he going to kill Tsuzuki. He didn't care if his job depended on it, or his life. Over the past couple of years, he had grown attached to the sweets-loving, happy-go-lucky shinigami. Tsuzuki was the first real friend he had.

_Because you're my partner, that's why_.

Hisoka may not be a very friendly person, but he was fiercely loyal. He would never harm Tsuzuki. It was a given.

And he knew that Tatsumi wouldn't, either.

So what was bothering him?

* * *

"What?"

"Watari, so now you realize why we need your help?"

"So you're saying that Tsuzuki was alive all this time? How?"

"I don't know - that's why we need you. Will you help?"

"Sure thing, Tatsumi. Something just seems wrong with this picture."

"Exactly."

"What do you want me to search?"

"Court records seventy-eight years ago, and anything on Tsuzuki Asato."

"Sure thing."

* * *

Konoe leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes tiredly. What in the world was he going to do?

Glancing at his watch and widening his eyes at the time, he stood up.

"Going home already?" a passing junior secretary asked as he passed her in the hall.

"Yes. I'm not feeling too well...long day," Konoe nodded at her.

"Well, then. Get well soon!"

He slipped out of the building without meeting many other people.

It was almost time for his meeting.

* * *

Light from the computer screen flickered on Watari's face.

"See this? This is Tsuzuki's record." He said, pointing. "It took some time to find...passwords, encryption, security systems - it was protected really well. No match for me, though." He said proudly while 003 fluttered on his shoulder.

Surprise flickered across Tatsumi's face as he ignored Watari. "He looks so...different. So...emotionless."

"Didn't you know him back them?" Watari asked, glancing back.

"Not at that time. And he wasn't like this."

"He was different back then. Like, really different. It was as if he -"

"Record, Watari."

"Oh, right. Let's see...birth...life...family...yada yada yada...Death: hmm... N/A?"

Tatsumi narrowed his eyes. "Not applicable? That's strange. Let's see the court files."

"Hmm...'On March 17, 7 o'clock in the morning, the court and Enma ruled in favour of Tsuzuki staying in Meifu and becoming a shinigami.'"

"But surely Enma must have known that Tsuzuki wasn't dead?"

"Oh, definitely." Watari nodded.

"Then how...?" Tatsumi narrowed his eyes.

"I have no idea."

Both men stared at the slowly flickering screen.

* * *

Hisoka suddenly sat up, worried.

He had been in the library for the past hour, reading a good mystery novel. But now, he realized something.

Where was Tsuzuki?

Surely an hour was enough for being alone? After all, he wasn't exactly the type to sit around alone.

So where was he?

Hisoka closed his eyes and lay back. He stretched his consciousness outwards (a trick he learned from Wakaba), letting emotions wash over him.

He could sense a junior secretary muttering about coffee or something on the first floor and Terazuma and Wakaba arguing on the third. He could sense Tatsumi and Watari, and everyone in the building and the grounds.

Just not Tsuzuki.

Worried, now Hisoka went to check his book out and set out to find Tatsumi and Watari. Surely they would know where Tsuzuki would be, right?

Maybe this panic was all for nothing, or maybe not. Hisoka wasn't willing to risk it. He climbed stairs two at a time, furious that he couldn't go any faster.

_Where was he?_

* * *

Konoe bowed his head to the shadowy figure sitting on the throne. "Sire, how shall we proceed with this? Should I call off the assignment?"

"No. Don't do anything. Let the others investigate."

Konoe frowned, but kept his head down respectfully. "Are you sure? The investigation may make them suspicious, and if they dig deeper -"

"Are you questioning my decision?" The voice was calm and cool. Deadly.

He backtracked quickly. "No, no. Of course not, sire. I was just suggesting."

"Well, do you know what to do?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Good. You may be dismissed." The tone was final.

Konoe scuttled out of the room.

Enma-Diao rose from his throne and stood to face a painting on one of the walls, one depicting a young man under a sakura tree, falling pink petals all around him.

"It seems that my plans are starting earlier than anticipated," he murmured softly to himself. "No matter, everything will go as planned."

"Come soon, my dear Tsuzuki, for now is the time."

* * *

Tsuzuki walked up the huge set of stairs leading up to the main door. Hesitantly, he opened the large door with the brass knob, and stepped inside.

From the outside, Meifu's court was large and imposing, with marble columns and granite steps. Inside, it was no less grand. A richly decorated corridor lead to a sort of main room with flaring high ceiling and carved sandstone walls gilded with gold leaf. Guards of varying nationalities and species were posted throughout the building.

Intimidating, indeed

Once, he thought he saw Konoe striding out of the building, then shook his head. _It's the nerves_, he chided himself, _stop seeing things._

Tsuzuki walked through the room, shoes sounding on the stone floor. He hadn't been stopped yet, but he knew he would. Anticipation curled in his stomach.

It didn't help that the...aura this building gave off made him tingle. Made the power he had suppressed for decades shiver in delight.

But no. He clamped down, hard, on the darkness inside. He was here to get answers, not to pick a fight. Not that he had any chance of winning.

"Stop!" A large lizard-headed guard walked over to Tsuzuki. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

Tsuzuki looked straight into one bright gold eye. "My name is Tsuzuki Asato and I need to talk with Enma-Diao."

The lizard's stony expression changed instantly and he bowed. "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Tsuzuki! Come right long this way...he's expecting you." The guard led him down a large hallway, lined with framed artwork and covered with plush carpet. "The sire is in the room at the end of the hallway." He bowed again, and walked away, leaving Tsuzuki staring at the grand wooden door wondering what the heck just happened.

_I'm...expected?_

Tsuzuki shook long dark bangs out of his face. _This is the point of no return, _he told himself, _your last chance. Are you sure you really want to talk with the god of the dead?_ But he already knew the answer.

He took a deep breath, then stepped forward and knocked on the door.

* * *

There was a knock at the door.

Tatsumi scrambled to minimize windows on the computer screen as Watari pretended to be studying a nearby book.

"Yes?" Watari asked. "Come in."

Hisoka stepped into the room.

Tatsumi blew a sigh of relief as he reopened the windows on the computer.

"Watari?" Hisoka asked, staring questioningly. "Why are you reading a dinner menu?"

Watari blushed and set down the resturant menu. "Oh, hey bouya! Wasn't expecting you here."

"Uh huh..." Hisoka looked at Tatsumi, who was fiddling with the cord of the mouse. "Say...did any of you see Tsuzuki anywhere?"

Tatsumi pushed his glasses farther up his nose. "Tsuzuki? No, why?"

"I hadn't seen him in the past hour," Hisoka frowned.

"Oh, he must be off somewhere. Considering this new shock, that isn't altogether unlikely." Watari waved his hand.

"You told him, Tatsumi?"

Tatsumi nodded. "Yes. I needed his help. Speaking of which, I want you to see this."

Hisoka walked behind him and started reading. "I don't get it," he said finally, "So?"

"See here? This proves that the court had ruled in favour of Tsuzuki becoming a shinigami. The court, as in Enma-Diao." Tatsumi explained patiently, pointing at the words. "But see here? Here's Tsuzuki's birth date, and all of the information needed in his record. Except for the day of his death."

"Because he never died," Hisoka realized finally, eyes widening. "The court _knew_ that Tsuzuki was alive, because they compile the information for the records. But they let him through anyway. Why, though?"

Watari narrowed his eyes. "We don't know. That's what we're trying to figure out."

"Let's see Chief Konoe," Tatsumi suggested. "He's been here longer than any of us...maybe he knows something."

"Oh, no," Hisoka said, shaking his head, "Konoe isn't in the building anymore. I think he left."

"What?" Tatsumi said. "That isn't like him. Even when he isn't feeling well, he still comes to work." He thought for a moment. "Oh, right. He had a meeting today. With Enma-Diao. Something about internal affairs and the progress of this Division, I think."

There was a silence as everyone considered this.

Suddenly, Watari snapped his fingers. "Of course! Why hadn't I thought of it?"

"Thought of what?" Hisoka asked.

"For Tsuzuki to become a shinigami, the court needed to hide his aura, or else he would be discovered instantly," Watari explained quickly. "Hide his aura...with magic. It would be simple to cast an ofuda to do that, and even easier for one experienced in the craft. And who better to cast it than one of Enma's close chiefs-Konoe?"

Hisoka blinked; this whole thing was too fast for him. "Hey...maybe we're jumping to conclusions here. Who says that Konoe had been in some sort of conspiracy plot to make Tsuzuki into a shinigami? And we're still forgetting the main points. How and why did he become one? After all, the kinds of gifts given to us are dangerous for a living person to bear. They'd die instantly."

Tatsumi smiled. Now here was a person who used his head; such a pity that Tsuzuki didn't follow Hisoka's example. "Yes, that would be true for ordinary humans. But this is not the case here. Even before Tsuzuki's supposed 'death', he was extraordinary. He is part demon...that alone sets him out as special."

Hisoka nodded slowly; things were beginning to make sense now.

"But wait. I still don't get why Tsuzuki was made into a shinigami in the first place. Couldn't they have waited until he actually died?" Hisoka asked.

"That is what we're going to find out," Tatsumi answered, getting up and heading to the door.

Watari frowned as he and Hisoka followed. "Where are you going?"

"To find Konoe. We're going to Enma's court."

* * *

Tsuzuki stepped inside the room.

He hadn't waited for an answer to his knock, but instead, barging right in. Somehow, he wanted to show that he was in control of things.

He wasn't in control of the room he was in, though. This room, although grand and luxurious, was eerily empty, and definitely not someplace he would have chosen for a meeting with Enma.

It was circular in shape and had a high vaulted ceiling that was covered in intricate carvings. Thick red carpet made no sound as he closed the door and padded farther into the huge room.

"Hello?" Tsuzuki called, his voice bouncing off the stone walls, "Enma-Diao? I wish to speak with you."

"Hello, Tsuzuki Asato. I have been expecting you for some time."

Tsuzuki stifled a gasp and turned towards the speaker. There - in the corner swathed in shadow was a figure sitting proudly on a throne.

Enma stood and strode forwards, letting light from an overhead skylight wash over him.

Tsuzuki's eyes widened. He hadn't expected Enma to look so...different.

Enma was unnaturally beautiful, with sharp, angular features and pale, smooth skin. Long black hair framed high cheekbones and red lips, and eyes stared out, unreadable. Eyes that were of no colour known to man, made of all the hues of the rainbow, and yet had no colour at all.

Tsuzuki swallowed, but made no move to bow or kneel. To do that would be to give Enma all the power. He needed answers.

A cold voice chuckled humourlessly. "What? No bow? No speech of thankfulness? Many people would kill to have this chance to talk to me face to face, you know." Long robes swished around the tall figure as Enma moved forward.

"I have some questions to ask you," Tsuzuki called out boldly. Silently, he counted the number of steps were between Enma and him-he didn't want to be too close to the emperor. _Seven_, he decided.

"And I have some answers to give _you_," Enma replied, stepping forwards. _Five steps_, Tsuzuki thought.

"Why am I still alive?" Tsuzuki demanded, standing his ground. Subtlety wasn't his strong point - no beating around the bush for him.

"Whatever do you mean?" Enma replied in a voice that sounded suspiciously like a purr.

Tsuzuki spoke louder. "Why am I still alive, and yet a shinigami? Why did you allow me to become one?"

Enma strode closer. "Are you sure you want to know?" he asked lightly, yet with a hidden malice underneath. "It's not very nice, you know."

"Of course I want to know!"

Three steps separated Tsuzuki from the emperor. He tried to move backwards, but found that his back was against one oak-paneled wall already. Enma walked forwards until he was right in front of Tsuzuki.

"Ah, Tsuzuki. My beautiful doll." One pale hand reached out and stroked Tsuzuki's cheek. He repressed a shiver. "My beautiful weapon."

What was Enma talking about? Tsuzuki wondered, then tried to move away. He found that he could not. He was paralyzed with some sort of magic.

Enma chuckled. "You find it hard to move, don't you? Fear not, just hear me through my story and you'll be let go. After all, you came all this way for answers, so answers you will get."

"Let. Me. Go." Tsuzuki muttered through gritted teeth, struggling.

Ignoring him, Enma continued talking. "So, why are you still alive? Well, the answer is simple: you have not yet died. Why are you a shinigami? Now, that's a more interesting question. You're a shinigami because I wanted you to be."

"Uh uh, don't talk. Be patient," Enma said, putting a finger across Tsuzuki's lips. "This all concerns you - you have a right to know."

"You're the most wonderful weapon, did you know that, Tsuzuki? You have enough power in you to destroy an entire world, easily. You feel it, don't you. Feel it growling restless inside you. It doesn't like being contained, did you know that?

"I need that power. Why? Do you ask. Could I not do everything myself?" The emperor chuckled as Tsuzuki swallowed nervously. He _had_ been thinking that. Enma's voice turned hard, resentful almost. "Perhaps you do not yet know of the nature of my power. I am the judge. I change, I create. But I cannot destroy what I have done. I cannot tear down my work. _Yours_ is the power that does just that. I can't do what you can do, and you can't hope to come near my abilities in creating. See? I need you. But not yet. When I am ready, I will need you, need your abilities, which will only bloom when you have died. I was not ready - the plan was not ready - for them at the time. I needed you alive.

"In the mean time, it was better to have you here in Meifu, where I can watch you and give you defense. Plus, your power is the highest, the most concentrated right now-at you age. I can't allow you to wither and age. So what better than to make you into a shinigami?"

"But when the time comes, it will be wonderful. With you, I can destroy all the evil in the world. There will no longer be any need of war, or of theft, or of crime. People can live safely in their cities without fear of being attacked. There will no longer be any children like you, Tsuzuki, bullied by their peers. The world will be at peace. And I will rule well over everything."

"But it would mean the deaths of millions of people!" Tsuzuki said, shocked at Enma's plan. This was what Enma had been planning all these years? Some sort of half-crazed world domination?

Enma shook his head at Tsuzuki's words.

"The people who would have to die...they are the ones that do not deserve to live. I am the judge, I have seen into the lives and souls of many thousands of people, and I can honestly say that there are people who deserve to cease living, to cease polluting the world with their sins. These are the ones I have cast into the pits of hell. But there are still others out there that have not yet been brought to justice.

Enma studied Tsuzuki's face carefully, waiting for interruption. But none came. Tsuzuki was dumbfounded.

"The world is old, its system long since seen its best days. It is time for a new world system, and that is what I have planned. Don't you see?

"That is why I need your powers. That is why I have made you into a shinigami."

He continued. "Of course, while you are a shinigami, the fact that you are still alive needed to be hidden. But that was a simple matter, an ofuda could do that. The problem was to keep up the spell until the time in which you could be unmasked. I needed an inside person to help with that."

"Chief Konoe," Tsuzuki breathed, realization dawning upon him.

"Oh, yes. He is an extremely loyal man and he takes orders readily. But you couldn't know that, seeing as how to obey _his_ orders.

"As of now, though, the time is almost up. Your friends would have probably figured everything out by now, and may be heading over here right this second. It doesn't matter, anyhow. My guards will take care of them."

"No." Tsuzuki cried, "Please...do anything you want with me. Just don't harm them."

Enma paused, as if considering this. "Very well. I will leave them alone. It is only you I want, after all.

"You see, I have carefully crafted this plan for decades, everything down to the minutest detail. Everything has been planned out. It is now time for the first stage of my grand plan."

Tsuzuki shut his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Tsuzuki, but you will have to die."

"Wouldn't that draw attention to your plan, though? If my name suddenly appears in the court summons?" Tsuzuki asked, trying to draw out his time.

"No. I could just say it was a misprint. I write the court summons, after all." Enma replied, completely at ease. "No one would ever know."

And then he pounced.

* * *

"Whoa," Hisoka breathed, staring up at the huge building. He had seen it before, of course, but never like this.

Watari chuckled. "Never let it be said that the Meifu court is out of money."

"Come on, you two. Now's not the time to be sightseeing," Tatsumi called, heading towards one of the large doors.

Hisoka ran to catch up. "How will we find the Chief? This place is so big, we could easily search for weeks and never find him."

"Easy. We ask someone." Watari said, tapping the shoulder of a nearby guard.

"Hey. You," he said to the annoyed-looking lizard. "Have you seen a man named Konoe? Kinda short and old looking, wearing a grey suit?" The lizard shook his head. "Or maybe you've seen a purple-eyed man? Black hair? Bad sense of fashion? His name's Tsuzuki Asato."

The lizard narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why? Who wants to know?"

Tatsumi stepped up. When he wanted to, he could look _very_ intimidating. "We do. It's a very important matter. Where was Tsuzuki going?"

The lizard kept his mouth shut.

Tatsumi reached into his pocket and pulled out a few bill. "This here's fifty yen," he said, waving it in front of the guard's nose. "It's all yours if you tell me."

Biting his lip, although seeming a little indecisive, the lizard-headed guard kept silent.

Tatsumi frowned and pulled out some more bills. "Eighty?"

The guard hesitated, then muttered. "He went to see Enma-Diao. First floor, fourth corridor to the left. Room at the end."

"Here." Tatsumi gave the money to the guard, who snatched it and greedily stuffed it into a pocket.

"Hmph," Watari sniffed as they went inside. "Corruption everywhere. No sense of loyalty at all."

"Let's see..." Hisoka muttered, looking around. "First floor, fourth corridor. It should be over there..."

"Hisoka," Tatsumi asked, "Do you think you can sense Tsuzuki's presence? I don't want to barge into someone's room only to find that he'd already left."

"Yeah, sure."

Hisoka closed his eyes and let down his mind blocks, concentrating.

"It's no good", he said finally. "This place is protected...I'm blocked."

Watari sighed. "Then I guess we have to do things the old-fashion way. Come on - I think the hallway's over there."

Tatsumi and Hisoka followed, neither quite able to rid himself of the disturbing sensation that something big was going to happen.

* * *

Tsuzuki hissed in pain. Long scratches ran their way down his right cheek, and the ripped skin and flesh of his arms bled profusely.

He struggled against the invisible bindings, but couldn't move.

"Had enough Tsuzuki?" the dark figure before him taunted. "Just let go of your demonic power. That's all I ask. Come on, lash out at me with it. You know you want to. I've taken away most of your healing powers, and you can't call on your shikigami here. Accept the inevitable. Let yourself go."

Gritting his teeth, Tsuzuki clamped down on the darkness inside him, which was enraged at Enma. _No_, he told himself, _don't give in to Enma. Don't give him what he wants._

"No?" One pale hand magically produced a silver dagger. "Don't struggle - you'll make it worse for yourself."

"Have you gone crazy?" Tsuzuki growled, "You want to help the world by killing millions of people? That's not the way it goes. They may have sinned terribly, but nobody deserves what you're thinking."

Enma paused. "For that, you're wrong," he said quietly. "They do. For centuries, I have been forced to watch the earth-my earth-fall to ruins because of such people. I could only watch, I couldn't act. But now, with you, I can. I can give the earth and the people the justice they deserve."

And with that, he plunged the dagger deep into Tsuzuki's side, and twisted. Tsuzuki gasped at the excruciating pain, and spat blood from his mouth. Blood dripped from his clothing, staining the already crimson carpet redder.

"No," he whispered.

"Very well. Although I do regret the loss of such a life, but I fear I must kill you."

Tsuzuki glared. "Then do it."

He hoped that Tatsumi, Watari, Hisoka, and the rest wouldn't come for him. With the way Enma was acting, he was liable to kill them all on the spot. If he died, it wouldn't matter much, as he would just move on into the afterlife. But shinigami are a completely different matter. They can't move on after their second death.

Enma placed two cold fingers on Tsuzuki's forehead. "Truly regretful, but necessary. Goodnight Tsuzuki," he murmured, and recited a quick spell.

Tsuzuki screamed.

* * *

A scream, muffled by the thick door, reached Hisoka's ears.

"It's Tsuzuki!" he shouted, running for the door.

Talking to Enma-Diao was an extremely dangerous past time at its best, as you can never know what the emperor would do. This, Hisoka knew and it spurred him on.

Finally reaching the door, he pulled at the handle. "Damn!" he muttered. "It's locked!"

Tatsumi and Watari caught up with him.

"Stand back," Watari said, drawing back his foot to kick the door open. But before he could, the door exploded in a flurry of darkness and wood splinters.

Almost instinctively, Hisoka pulled out a barrier fuda, at the same time Tatsumi drew his shadows closer to envelope the three.

The explosion cut through the defenses like a hot knife through butter, but at least the shadows helped it to slow down. Hisoka, Tatsumi, and Watari were flung against the wall like rag dolls.

Then, as suddenly as it started, the explosion disappeared.

Painfully, Hisoka got up, clutching his arm. He surveyed the totaled hallway.

The door was now nonexistent, as were most of the walls that surrounded it. Through the gaping hole that was left, he could see what used to be a large room, now simply a room for holding debris. Clouds of dust hung in the air.

Several metres away, he could see the limp form of-

"Tsuzuki!" Hisoka cried, rushing over, ignoring the way his bruised and battered legs complained.

"Tsuzuki," he said, quieter this time, kneeling next to the shinigami, brushing stone dust from the man's cheek.

Tsuzuki's still body displayed the signs of abuse done to it. Deep gashes were all over his body, and what little untorn skin there was heavily bruised. His normally black hair was soaked in blood, and now appeared more of a russet red than the dark it normally was. Tsuzuki's eyes were closed, and his body showed no signs of him breathing.

Panicked, Hisoka fumbled for Tsuzuki's wrist. He grabbed it, and felt for a pulse.

There was none.

"Baka," Hisoka mumbled, tears in his eyes threatening to overwhelm him. "Why did you go to Enma by yourself?"

"Because he wanted answers, that's why."

Hisoka's head snapped up, to stare at a figure he had only met once, over twenty years ago.

"Enma-Diao," he whispered, then stood up and spoke louder. "What did you do to him?"

"Whatever do you mean?" The voice was calm and cool, as if they were merely discussing the weather over a cup of tea, not in the middle of what looked like a battlefield.

"What did you do to Tsuzuki? You killed him!"

"I've only awakened his true self. It was his decision to come here in the first place. He wanted answers, I gave them to him."

"You lead him here," Hisoka snarled, finally understanding. "You planned all of this."

Enma chuckled lightly. "Well, almost all of it. I hadn't anticipated the destruction you friend had caused. Seems as if he had more power in him than even I had predicted. Oh well. More for the taking."

"You'll never get away with this," a low voice behind Hisoka snapped, making him jump. "Everyone will find out what you have done, and you'll be punished."

Enma smiled at Tatsumi. "Maybe I will. Maybe I'll be...how do you say it...kicked out of my position? And then what? Who will replace me? No one, that's who. I'm far too valuable for anything to happen to me."

Hisoka ground his teeth in frustration.

Enma laughed, knowing that he had won. "And so, for now, farewell, although I will be meeting with all of you soon. Oh, as a word of warning: Tsuzuki may be extremely...destructive for a few days, just until he gets his newfound powers under control. Now, I really must go. My people are in need of me. Goodbye." And with a wave, the emperor disappeared in a puff of smoke.

He got away, Hisoka thought dimly. Enma killed Tsuzuki and done who knows what else, and he's going to _get away_. Hisoka bit his lip in mute frustration. There was nothing that can be done for this, they could only hope to get on with life and hope that things can return to normal.

Watari knelt down next to the still body of Tsuzuki, leaning heavily on Tatsumi for support. "How is he?" he asked Hisoka.

"Enma killed him," Hisoka muttered, and proceeded to describe the emperor with a few extremely colourful and creative phrases. "But what about you, Watari?" he asked, "Are you okay?"

Watari waved away his concern with one gloved hand. "I'm fine. Just a broken leg - nothing I can't handle."

Hisoka raised one eyebrow in disbelief, but said nothing.

Sounds of running guards and shouting met his ears as the three sat on the broken ground. They watched and waited for Tsuzuki's soul to appear, as they have done so many times with the bodies of so many other people.

* * *

_Screaming as the power he had suppressed for so long ripped itself from its confinements and attacked._

_"Are you okay, Tsuzuki?" Hisoka's dusty face, worried now. Worried for him. _

_Not terrified. Strange._

_Destroyed south wing of the court building. "I did that."_

_"You look different now, Tsuzuki."_

_"What did Enma do to you?" Silence._

_Must control demon...failing...no! Let it loose._

_"I'm sorry Tatsumi about the damaged storage rooms. I'll pay for everything - don't worry!"_

_"It's okay Tsuzuki. I'll take care of it."_

_Freak. Murderer. Monster._

_Demon._

_Nothing will ever be the same._

* * *

Tsuzuki stared out at the stony grey sky, hands on the balcony railing, paying no attention to the rain soaking him to the skin. Contemplating.

"You'll catch a cold like that, Tsuzuki."

The voice made him jump. He'd forgotten that everything was so much louder now, to his sensitive (demonized) ears. Actually, all of his senses were heightened now.

Like Terazuma. He nearly chuckled at the thought. Seems like they had more in common than he thought.

"Oh hi, Hisoka. Why aren't you at training?" Tsuzuki smiled, quickly stopping when Hisoka flinched.

Oh. Right. Extra-long, incredibly sharp canine teeth. Just another gift from his inner demon. He'd gotten plenty.

"The class ended early." Emerald eyes met his, scrutinizing. Trying to figure him out.

Tsuzuki sighed. "I told you already. I'm fine. There's nothing to be worried about."

Silence. Neither person believed his lie.

"Tsuzuki, I'm worried about you," Hisoka said, hesitating as if reading from some sort of mental script. His jacket rustled as he shifted his feet.

"I'm fine." Eyes on the horizon again, staring at some distant destination.

"No. You and I both know that's complete trash. For once in your life, tell the truth!"

Tsuzuki sighed. "Everything's so different now. I mean, I found out I was alive, and then died. I thought I had controlled the demon, then it's brought back to the surface again." He spat out the word 'demon'. "Ironic. At least you and Tatsumi were spared the job of killing me."

Hisoka shook his head. "No. You're still the same Tsuzuki, you -"

Tsuzuki snorted. "Yeah right. Don't think that I haven't noticed everybody avoiding me. Smart people."

Hisoka opened his mouth to argue, but Tsuzuki silenced him with a glare.

"Watch." Tsuzuki plucked a twig from a nearby willow tree, and held it in his outstretched hand. The twig burned dimly for a second, then collapsed into dust. The ash was washed away be the rain, running from his hand in grey streaks. "See? I destroy everything. Usually even without meaning to. I can't even smile without scaring people away!"

"But -"

"But nothing. Don't worry about me leaving...I won't be doing _that_ anytime soon. After all, Enma still needs me for his master world domination plan, right?" Tsuzuki smiled bitterly. "Not that I'll help. He can do it all himself for all I care."

"Tsuzuki, but you have a choice. You don't have to listen to that -" Hisoka stopped himself before continuing. "Anyway, it's only been a week. You be able to control the...demon before long. The court decided not to put Enma on trial, since it's your word against Enma's, but you don't have to follow what they tell you. And everybody knows about your living-not living thing, can sense how powerful you are - they'll help you."

"Help me? Or despise me?"

Hisoka ignored his partner. "Chief Konoe was judged, too, but he didn't get punished as he was only following orders."

"So? Enma would still find a way around the problem."

Hisoka stared at his partner and said, "The court had decided to give you the choice of where you want to go, since you're already a shinigami. You can choose to move on into the after life now, or stay here, Tsuzuki. It's your choice now." He lowered his eyes, and fixed them to the wet ground at his feet, afraid of what Tsuzuki would say.

There was a long pause as Tsuzuki thought.

"Well," he said finally. "Who will eat all the sweets if I go? And the damages to the library still haven't been paid off. Who else would Tatsumi yell at? Not you, that's for sure."

Hisoka smiled. He stepped forwards and hugged Tsuzuki as hard as he could, as Tsuzuki once done to him long ago. Surprised, Tsuzuki stiffened for a second, then hugged Hisoka back.

"Don't leave me ever," Hisoka mumbled against the soaked fabric of Tsuzuki's trench coat. "I don't care what happens - I don't want you to go."

Tsuzuki smiled, baring his fangs and not caring who saw them. Hisoka wanted him here, and that was all that mattered.

"Don't worry, I won't."

**Whew! Finally finished...well, this chapter at least.**

**Feedback will be appreciated!**


	6. Broken Lock & Lost Key pt 2, Déjà vu

****

**Yep...c'est the next chapter/part/whatever-you-call-it.**

**This took forever to write, _way_ longer than the last part. Like two weeks. And then I scrapped the last half and rewrote it .**

**But you probably don't want to hear about that...so.**

**Read on!**

* * *

_Briiing! _

_Bring! Bring! Brii-_

"Hello?" an exasperated Oriya asked, picking up the phone.

It was a hard day at the brothrel. The customers were being extremely difficult and demanding, and the women were rowdy. Not Oriya's best day.

And on top of all that, Muraki was in the room, even after he promised not to return. His reasons were something nobody could fathom.

And his presence, of course, normally meant that Oriya's blood pressure rocketed, even on a good day. This day was definitely _not_ good. And it will only get worse.

"Hello," a cool and curt voice answered from the other end, "Is Muraki Kazutaka there?"

"Yeah." Oriya tossed the cordless phone over to Muraki, who was at a table drinking a cup of tea as if nothing had ever happened between them in the past couple of months.

As if he still wasn't swathed in bandages to protect the burns all over his body.

Muraki caught it and brought it to his ear. "Hello?" he asked.

A calm voice answered. "Muraki. Stage One has been completed." There. That one simple message, probably meaningless to anyone else but him. Whoever was on the other end began talking quickly, as Muraki nodded and _hmmed_ as he was supposed to.

"So everything is ready?" he confirmed, looking as if he were a child on Christmas Day. "Yes, I will begin Stage two immediately. I will not fail this time." The other disconnected, and left him staring at the phone while Oriya looked at him curiously.

"I'll be gone for a while," Muraki told his friend, "Please don't come looking for me." Oriya nodded, this was a given. _Never_ look for Muraki without his consent. One can not find him if he does not want to be found, and the best prize you could hope for your efforts is probably be a quick and painless death.

Oriya also knew enough not to ask about the call, and knew Muraki well enough to know that he probably _didn't_ want to know. Still, that cold voice was so...strange. He had heard it before, but couldn't pinpoint the memory.

Weird. He usually had good memory.

Maybe he was growing old.

Oriya almost chuckled. He _was_ growing old - too old for Muraki's games anymore.

* * *

Tatsumi walked - nearly stumbling - into his soft chair in his office. Another tiring day of accounting, rule-enforcing, arguing, and general-taking-care-of-things-around-the-building behind him.

The pages he was supposed to be doing to get ahead of his work seemed so uninteresting now, the words swimming together before his eyes.

He rubbed his eyes. Maybe he was getting too old for this kind of job. Or maybe it was just Tsuzuki.

Yes, that must be it.

Tsuzuki, now more demon than human (only physically though). Tsuzuki, who was dead, then alive, then dead again. Tsuzuki, who appeared the same (apart from those fangs...), and yet somehow seemed to have changed so much, which frightened everyone. Tsuzuki, who nobody knew what to do with.

The other employees' concern were well justified, of course. Who wants a half-human, half-demon co-worker with twelve shikigamis and the power to destroy the whole of Meifu without even blinking? One who only recently learned how to control his powers? One who had changed so much, and yet still seems so much the same.

Because, oh yes, Tsuzuki had changed a lot. Sharp canine teeth, extra-sensitive senses, and incredible reflexes being the most obvious, although these alone would be enough to unnerve most. He had diamond-sharp claws as well, although Tatsumi was sure that nobody but he and Tsuzuki knew about those.

Tsuzuki just seemed...different, somehow. That glow of happiness - which had warmed him for so long - was gone, although he knew how much Tsuzuki tried to hide that from everyone. It was almost painful seeing how much that shinigami was hiding.

As well, Tatsumi now had new respect for Hisoka. Being by the violet-eyed shinigami all the time, receiving the stares with no more than a twitch of an eyelid. Those two were made to be partners, that he knew for sure.

But enough talk about Tsuzuki, who had been foremost in his thoughts for most of the day. Now, with everybody already home for the night, it was time for him to get some work done.

He picked up his pen and turned on the nearby radio.

(Yes, he had a radio in his office, contrary to popular belief. He enjoyed music, a love he had taken up as a child.)

A calm, soothing jazz began playing and Tatsumi smiled slightly as he carefully noted down figures and numbers. The music was not enough to sooth his panic when seeing how much the department in debt, though.

Finally, half and hour and several songs later, he put his pen back down and yawned. _Time to go home_, Tatsumi thought, filing away the papers. As he opened the door, however, the fax machine beeped and printed out a piece of...something.

He grunted and ripped the sheet out. Hmm...another assignment request? Oh well, he'll give it to Tsuzuki and Hisoka in the morning-those two were positively driving him up the wall with their restlessness. Time to give them something to do, and this assignment seemed harmless enough.

Tatsumi began humming the jazz tune as he set the paper on his desk and left the building.

So preoccupied he was with his work, Tatsumi completely missed the dark shadow that followed his every move.

* * *

Tsuzuki slumped in his chair and yawned.

"_Another_ bad night?" Hisoka asked, finishing up a report on one of Watari's older computers. Pity that the Department couldn't afford newer ones.

Tsuzuki just nodded, then brightened. "Maybe the break room has some more of those yummy chocolate donuts. That'll help!"

Hisoka sighed, shaking his head. "C'mon. Work on your report. What are you looking at on that computer, anyway?" He leaned over to catch a glimpse of a picture of a black-haired, pale skinned man, before Tsuzuki hurriedly closed the page. "That was that?"

"Nothing. I was bored."

Hisoka shook his head again. "Whatever. Your time. But you should really work on your report, or else Tatsumi will be out for you blood."

"Tatsumi will be out for whose blood?" A certain blue-eyed, brown-haired secretary asked, stepping into the room. Tsuzuki scrambled for his papers and pen, trying to look as if he was actually doing some work.

"Nobody's," he replied quickly.

Tatsumi shook his head. _Tsuzuki, you don't fool me for a second._

"Anyway," he said, "We have a new assignment for you two. Meet Konoe and me in the office in half an hour."

"'Kay," Tsuzuki said, excited. But knowing him, he'll probably be late for the meeting, no matter how excited he was.

Hisoka reached into his desk and pulled out a book. "We'll be there," he murmured, burying his nose in the fantasy novel.

Tatsumi nodded and turned to leave. Hand on the doorknob, however, he looked back and stared at Tsuzuki. "Oh, and I expect both of your reports by this afternoon, new assignment or not. Especially since _I_ take care of your paychecks."

Tsuzuki's eyes widened, as he started scribbling madly at the page before him. All thoughts of chocolate donuts were forgotten.

Tatsumi supressed a chuckle and walked out of the room, already readying himself for his own mounds of work waiting on his desk.

* * *

Watari walked into Konoe's office with a charred lab coat slung over one arm.

"Yo, hi," he said, waving his hand. "Hey, Chief, have you seen Tsuzuki? Or Tatsumi? I need to ask him for another research grant. From Tatsumi, I mean."

Konoe shook his head. "No, I haven't, Watari. What do you need Tsuzuki for? And why do you need _another_ grant?"

"Tsuzuki asked for some things, and I have them in my office and I need to give them to him." Watari smiled sheepishly. "And well...I have a few other projects that...didn't work out the way I wanted them to."

"Hence the burned lab coat?"

"Heh heh heh...yeah."

Konoe thought for a moment, then finally said, "Watari, could you make something for me? I'm sure the department can cover the costs of such a thing, providing that it isn't too expensive, and can actually work."

For a moment, Watari looked taken aback. But he quickly recovered his composure. If his life had taught him anything, it was to never look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Sure, Konoe. What do you want me to make?"

Konoe folded his hands. "Something that can transfer energy from one place to another...preferably between people. I've been having an idea for some time now, and I'm sure that this invention can keep shinigami safer. Plus, there's all the broken..." he went on, but Watari had already stopped listening after the first sentence, too busy thinking up ideas for his newfound project.

An invention! Fully paid by the department! This was too good to pass up.

"Now, will you make this for me?"

"Sure, Chief Konoe. Of course!"

* * *

Tsuzuki frowned. "So, you're saying that there is some kind of murderer prowling the streets of Kyoto, killing other criminals? And that the criminal's souls never make it here, and instead, are lost? And Hisoka and I are to find the murderer and the souls and bring them back here, if possible?" He shuffled a stack of papers that were clipped together, looking through them.

"Why Kyoto?" Hisoka muttered, shuddering. He had enough memories from _there_ to last a lifetime.

Tsuzuki wholeheartedly agreed.

Tatsumi sighed. "Yes, I agree that going there may not be the best choice for the two of you, but you are the only shinigami we have that aren't already on an assignment. The assignment, otherwise, does not seem difficult, and if this case is left alone any longer, it may seriously back up the court schedules."

"So, when do we start?" Hisoka asked, "The sooner we start, the sooner we finish and put it all behind us."

"You can start right now, in fact," Konoe said. "But be careful - especially you, Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki laughed. "What more could happen? I'm dead after all."

Ignoring the last comment, Tatzumi added, "Oh, Tsuzuki, don't forget your report-" But by then, the two were already gone.

* * *

Tsuzuki and Hisoka materialized in one of Kyoto's back alleys.

Tall grey walls of rundown buildings bordered either side, and broken concrete lay beneath. Wilted skeletons of weeds lay scattered among the cracks, probably choked by the heavy smell of garbage and rot that seemed to hang perpetually in the air.

"_Have_ you finished your report?" Hisoka asked his partner, stepping over a pile of...something. He didn't want to know what.

Tsuzuki grinned sheepishly. "Nope." He stuck all of the assignment papers into an inside pocket of his trench coat, all senses finely tuned for any signs of people around them.

Somewhere off in the distance, sounds of a fight met their ears, followed by dull wooden _thunks_, and a shattered-glass _crash_.

Hisoka scowled. "Do we really need to rescue all those murderers from this killer? I mean, if we don't we'd probably be saving dozens of lives right there. The killer will take care of them."

Tsuzuki turned away and began picking his way out of he alley. "Yes, maybe if we don't do anything, that'll happen. Sooner or later, he'll make a mistake, and kill an innocent. No one, not even the worst murderer, deserves to have their soul taken away. Nobody."

A long pause.

"Not even Muraki?"

Tsuzuki stiffened, and turned to look at his partner, to gauge his emotions. Hisoka's calm, but challenging expression stared back.

Tsuzuki hesitated. "No, not even Muraki," he said as the two reached the mouth the alley.

The sounds of the street fight have faded by then, and the two walked silently side by side, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.

Finally, Tsuzuki broke the silence. "What should we do, first, Hisoka? Investigate, or check into the hotel?"

Hisoka answered without looking. "Investigate first, then check in."

Tsuzuki nodded. "That's smart. We can look into police records, to see if there are any patterns between the murders."

Aside from the murders being murderers themselves. It was an unspoken fact between the two, but it may as well have been shouted out loud, their thoughts so finely attuned to each other.

Their thoughts on the same level, and both sullen and quiet as they walked through the better streets of Kyoto. Being there was taking a toll on them both mentally and emotionally, as well as bringing back unwelcome memories. Even other people around them avoided them, skirting around huge crowds or just averting their gaze from Tsuzuki and Hisoka. Whether consciously or subconsciously, they knew that this was a pair to be avoided.

The two reached a large, but nondescript building. Made of red brick, and surrounded by green-and not yet flowering-plants, the building could have been practically anything, anywhere, and still fit in. _Kyoto Police Department_ was written in large block letters above the main doors.

"Closed?" Tsuzuki asked in disbelief, reading the small sign on the door. "What kind of police department closes?"

"One that is too busy to receive any new cases," Hisoka replied, looking around. "There were a lot of murders around here, remember that. They must be really busy." He paused before continuing. "Either way, we should sneak into the building later on, try to find what we can by ourselves. It's not like the police are going to hand over information to us."

Tsuzuki nodded. "Yeah, but during the night. Now, can we get some ice cream? I think I saw a stand on our way here." He reached into a pocket for money.

Hisoka shook his head. "Baka!" he said, "We should be checking into our hotel, not buying ice cream!"

Tsuzuki sighed. "Fine. Ice cream later?"

He nearly dodged Hisoka's hit. Nearly.

"Ouch! That hurt!"

"I think this is the place," Tsuzuki said finally, half an hour later. He took out one of the sheets they have been given. "Sure looks like it." He rubbed the side of his face where Hisoka's fist hit him while looking up at the inn.

Hisoka snorted. Typical of Tatsumi - housing shinigami in the cheapest, most run-down places ever. Although being technically immortal and probably not coming out worse for wear after staying in one of these inns, it wouldn't hurt him to have them stay in someplace better? Like, say, someplace one-star, for once?

Tsuzuki sighed, checking into the inn and taking a key that looked about just as old-fashioned as the building's owner. "I guess we have to take what we can get," he said, unlocking a chipped wooden door that had most of its paint peeling off. Not that the lock does the place much good, Hisoka mused as he entered the small room, the door looks as if a single push could sent it falling down.

Tsuzuki frowned at the door, as if thinking along the same lines, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, "I bet this place doesn't even have cafe or a sweets shop!"

"At least it has a bathroom." Hisoka offered.

"And if we're lucky, one that works." Tsuzuki shot back with unusual temper. Kyoto was bringing back unwanted memories for him, ones that he'd prefer to have stayed hidden in the misty folds of his mind.

Hisoka looked at him strangely. "What's with you, Tsuzuki? We've done nothing but argue since coming here."

Tsuzuki shook his head and lowered his eyes. "Sorry, Hisoka. This place is getting on my nerves, that's all. Anyway, it's almost seven. If we go now, we'd have enough time to eat dinner before searching the police station." He said, said, eager to change the subject.

Hisoka rolled his eyes but let the argument go.

Tsuzuki and Hisoka left the building, earning more than a few stares for the obvious companionship of the strange (and unsettling) adult and standoffish teenager.

Not the least of the stares came from a dark figure who stalked the two with practised ease.

Tsuzuki was wrong about one thing, at least - the killer _never_ made a mistake.

* * *

Enma laughed.

Which was a rarely heard sound in the Meifu court. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on the way you see it), no one was around to hear the loud, booming, satisfied, laugh.

Which suited Enma just fine. No one to hear, then there was no one to pester him for information, or look at him strangely. Although he could most probably fend off such polite, respectful - and yet still probing - questions with the careless wave of a hand.

But no such questions were asked, which was better for the questioners. Enma didn't want to have to kill any of his employees as they have served him loyally for many years, but he will if he had to.

He didn't want the secret to come out before it was ready, after all.

But with his plans coming to fruitation so quickly and well, there was only a matter of time before all of Meifu - heck all of the _worlds _- to see exactly what had been going on right in front of their noses all this time. So many decades set with planning this, and now it was all coming to a conclusion.

Soon, there will come a time where everything will be black and white, where it will either be one or the other.

But Enma was quite sure that it will be he who would win in the end.

* * *

"And he left! Without giving in his report!" Tatsumi fumed quietly, in the privacy of his office. "And he didn't hand me his bills from last month, either!"

When Tsuzuki came back from Kyoto, he was in for it.

Anyone who happened to be passing by the door of Tatsumi's office might be inclined to believe that their secretary was finally going crazy. And nobody will blame Tatsumi for losing it, either.

But, in this case, he had a very good reason to be angry. What else would you be when you've found out that the reports and bills that you've been pressing Tsuzuki to hand in for weeks were actually finished, sitting in the bottom of his junk drawer, and smeared in icing and other bakery delights?

Tatsumi dumped the Ziplock bag full of the illegible official papers unceremoniously on his desk, ready to confront Tsuzuki when he got back. Really. A few missing or late papers now and then was okay, but this? This was taking lazy, messy, and irresponsible a little too far, Tsuzuki.

Tatsumi pushed his glasses farther up on his nose, and took a deep breath. And let it out. And took in another.

Calming himself.

If he was being truthful to himself, Tatsumi might have realized that a small portion of his anger, at least, was from worry. Already, he was regretting sending Hisoka and Tsuzuki on this case.

But Tatsumi wasn't in the mood for being truthful, and he took out the department's monthly bill in hopes that comforting, familiar numbers would help sooth him.

He should have known it wouldn't.

"Watari!" Tatsum shouted, bursting into the blonde's laboratory. Watari's head snapped up, and the vial of liquid in his hand slipped, spilling the bluish chemical all over the table.

The scientist swore, and hurriedly soaked a nearby cloth with another chemical and began mopping it up.

"Watari!" Tatsumi repeated, not worried in the slightest about that liquid might do. He was more worried about the piece of paper clutched in his hand - the department's monthly bill. "Why did your sector use almost double the amount of money than any of the others?" he demanded.

Watari blinked, then chuckled nervously, still moping up the spill. "Oh - about that..." he started.

Tatsumi's gaze was steely. "About what? What were you making this time that was so expensive?"

"It was a request from Chief Konoe." Watari replied, pausing in his cleaning to look up. "He wanted me to make a -" he stopped himself, biting his lip.

"Make a what?" Tatsumi's stare became even icier, if that was possible. "What justified putting this department into even more debt?"

Watari sighed. "He wanted me to build an energy-transferring device," he explained, "And I made one that worked pretty well...except that maybe it used a bit too much money to produce...Ask him if you want to know all the details-actually, don't. I was technically supposed to keep this a secret, but since you _are_ the secretary..." Watari was cut off when the cloth he was using to wipe the table started smoking. "Whoops." He dunked the whole cloth into some solution, and started wiping again. "And if you do talk to him, don't mention me, okay? I promised," Watari said, keeping his head down. "Anyway, I'm almost finished it, and it's really cool, see? It can…" his voice trailed off when he realized that Tatsumi wasn't paying the slightest attention to his findings.

Tatsumi frowned, folding the bill back up. "Why did he need an energy-transferring device? There's no need for one, and no one has ever requested an invention before. Definitely not from _you_."

"Hey!" Watari pouted.

Ignoring him, Tatsumi turned for the door. "Well, next month, you better watch your spending. I'm probably going to have to cut your budget now, and if you go even _one cent over_-" No one can sound quite as frightening as Tatsumi when he felt like it.

"Okay, okay!" Watari said hastily, if a little disappointedly. "I get it...I won't make any more of my sex-change potions." He chuckled. "Although it was pretty funny the last time..." He froze at Tatsumi's glare.

"I'd be watching your every penny," Tatsumi threatened once more, then swept out of the room.

Watari stared at the closed door. "What's with him?" he asked 003, who'd been sitting peacefully on a nearby computer. The owl hooted and shrugged.

In truth, Tatsumi didn't know why he was so snappy, himself.

_It's just paranoia_, he told himself, walking down the hallway, shoes clapping against the cold linoleum floor. Everyone in this division was paranoid these days, what with various wreckings of the library, Kyoto, and now, the dead-turned-living-turned-demon Tsuzuki.

But Tatsumi couldn't help wondering whether he should actually look into this matter. It could be just nothing, he reasoned, but it could be part of something important. But what if it was actually nothing, and Chief Konoe was just curious? How humiliating that will be.

In the end, Tatsumi decided not to do anything. After all, this strange nervous sensation was just paranoia.

Right?

* * *

Tsuzuki bent over the sink, scrubbing furiously at his hands until, finally, he gave up and dried his hands on the tiny tattered towel next to the sink. The water draining away was tinged grey with ash.

"You never give up, don't you," Hisoka commented from the bed, looking at Tsuzuki's raw hands.

"It. Never. Comes. Off." Tsuzuki muttered, baring his teeth in frustration. "I've got most of my power under control, but I can't help burning a small layer off everything I touch. And the ash is basically _glue_."

"It doesn't harm you, does it?" Hisoka asked.

"No. 'Course not." Tsuzuki replied. "But it's so annoying, knowing that your hands can never be clean." He ran his tongue over his sharpened canines, another constant reminder that he was not what he once was. His ears twitched at every new sound, and he ran his hands over the cloth of the bed sheets - almost unbearably rough with his heightened sense of touch.

Hisoka thought for a moment. "When we get back, we could probably get Watari or someone to find something to help that."

Tsuzuki shuddered. "Watari? I'd probably get turned into a fish, or something. Anyway, we're not here to talk about me. Have you found anything in the police station?"

Hisoka sighed. "No. That place has even tighter security than Tatsumi's wallet. And even when I did get into the files, there was basically nothing there that we didn't already know. Nothing at all."

"I didn't get anything, either. The police have just as much trouble with this case as we are." Tsuzuki replied, flopping onto the bed.

"Well, there's always the crime scenes. Police _always_ forget some evidence." Hisoka suggested.

"Yeah, sure. Tomorrow, though. I'm beat."

Hisoka nodded, and that was all it took for Tsuzuki to close his eyes and drift away to a place where sooty hands and difficult cases did not exist.

* * *

Tsuzuki opened his eyes to the stained, white-washed ceiling of the inn.

"Morning, already?" he muttered, raising his head off the pillow. "Hey-Hisoka. Are you up yet?"

He turned his head to where Hisoka was sleeping, and stifled a scream.

Hisoka's blank right eye stared back at him, its sibling lying on the bloody sheets. The boy's arm was ripped off at the shoulder, and black burns blazed on his skin. The blood was everywhere.

And he was not breathing.

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki cried, jumping up.

"Tsu...zuki..." Hisoka murmured softly, looking strangely angry. His eyelids fluttered.

"W-wait-don't move. I'll get you bandages." Tsuzuki ran to the small bathroom to grab the towel, but when he saw his reflection out of the corner of his eye, he froze.

In the mirror, he looked like Muraki. No, he _was_ Muraki. The black hair was still there, and when he opened his mouth, so were the demon fangs. The voice that his tongue spoke was his-definitely his-but not much else was. The silver eyes-one big and one small-were Muraki's. And so was the pale, pale skin, the high cheekbones, the delicate mouth drawn permanently into something in between a flirtatious pout and a self-satisfied smirk.

Tsuzuki lifted one hand to touch his reflection, to see if it was really real, when he saw his hand.

Blood was everywhere. Not his, but Hisoka's.

Staining his T-shirt and soaking through his shorts, caught under his finger nails and pooling in the palm of his hand. Quickly, Tsuzuki turned on the tap and scrubbed his hands raw, but no matter how hard he would try to wash the blood off, it stayed on his hand. Water overflowed, tinged red, but the blood on his hands didn't disappear. If anything, it grew, overjoyed by the attention Tsuzuki was stressing over it.

An accusation.

"Enjoying your handiwork, I see."

Tsuzuki's head snapped up, and he searched around for the source of the voice. He was sure there wasn't anyone else in here, apart from Hisoka and him...

"You can't see me?" The voice chuckled again. "Look up. I'm right in front of you." Tsuzuki's reflection smirked.

Tsuzuki backed away, still rubbing his hands furiously on the towel, stunned speechless. Somehow, he tripped, and fell against-no, _through_ the bathroom wall. He landed with a dull _thud_ on the ground.

His reflection stepped out of the mirror, and looked around appreciatively.

"Do you like your new room, Tsuzuki?" it asked, eyes glinting cruelly. "Suits you better, doesn't it?"

Gone was Hisoka, the bathroom, the run-down inn - a place, however cheap, was still habitable. This place, an empty moor filled only with smoke and mist, deprived of all colour, was a place where nothing could live.

Dark blackness gathered at the edge of the horizon, looking as if it will invade and suffocate what little he could see any second. The ground was dry, packed dirt, sometimes dotted with a few withered shrubs.

"Good thing you're dead, huh?" his reflection winked. "After all, you're going to stay here for quite a while. Fitting for a murderer, hmm?" it raised its eyebrows. "Especially one who kills his own partner!"

"What?" Tsuzuki said, horrified from his position on the ground, "I didn't kill Hisoka! Why would I?"

His reflection was starting to look more and more like Muraki. Was the hair already turning lighter? Was the voice becoming more seductive, more playful, more cold? Or was it just him?

"Look around you," it hissed, "The evidence is everywhere."

A figure stepped out from the ever-changing mist. "I hate you," Hisoka snarled, empty eye socket staring coldly at Tsuzuki. "I hate you and everything that you have done to me. Look at what you've done!" Blood was welling up from the ground, and the shifting wind suddenly sounded like distant human screams. "Can you hear that?" Hisoka murmured. "That is the sound of all the souls you've damned! Because of you, we can never rest, not while our tormenter lives. Not while _you_ still exist. I hate you!" The last sentence was flung into Tsuzuki's face like a barb.

Tsuzuki whimpered. "Hisoka…" he whispered hoarsely. "I would never…"

His reflection laughed. "You would never?" it sneered. "You already have. No wonder Hisoka doesn't care about you at all." Now, it looked more like Muraki than anything else.

Tsuzuki shook his head. "No, that can't be true," he said, more trying to convince himself than in denial.

The reflection—Muraki-reached out, and Hisoka ran willingly into its arms. "See?" it boasted, "Hisoka loves me…he belongs to _me_. Not you. My precious doll." Hisoka stared out, blank-eyed now, oblivious to everything.

Tsuzuki let out a cry that sounded more like a half-strangled sob. This couldn't be true…it couldn't.

And…was Muraki's outline flickering? All at once, it changed, pale skin becoming even paler, white hair turning black, silver eyes into a colour no one can possibly hope to replicate.

"Hello Tsuzuki. Long time no see, hmm?" Enma said conversationally, sweeping his long robes along the dusty ground. Hisoka stepped away to stand at the emperor's side.

"Enma!" Tsuzuki gasped, backing away. "Get away from Hisoka!"

"Hisoka?" Enma asked, eyes glimmering in mock uncertainty. "You mean this boy here?" he reached out to place a finger on Hisoka's forehead.

Tsuzuki jumped up, almost loosing his balance on the uneven ground. "Get away from him!" he shouted again.

The emperor chuckled. "But what's one lost life among the many you have already taken? And will take in the future? Yes, the oceans will run red with the blood you have spilled."

"No!" Tsuzuki leapt forwards, trying to get between the two.

"This boy is dead, in either case. His life taken from _your_ hands, if I recall correctly. He is of no use to you, and he hates you anyway. Give up, and come to me. You'll be powerful beyond all understanding."

"No," Tsuzuki muttered again, shielding Hisoka from Enma. "I will never come to you."

Enma smirked, a strange expression on his face. "We'll see," he said, reaching for the oblivious boy. "But first, I need to get rid of him." Fire erupted around them, fire as black and hot as Touda's own flames…

"No!"

* * *

Tsuzuki's eyes jerked open and he blinked in the darkness, trying to convince himself that it was all...just a dream.

Then he realized that he was standing up, facing the one small window in the room, with a shocked and horrified Hisoka pinned between him and the wall. His teeth were bared and he was leaning in, breathing in the scent of Hisoka's throat...

There was a warm, wet stickiness on his hands, and all over his face, and he knew without question that if the light had been turned on, everyone would see that he was covered in blood, although there wasn't a single mark on Hisoka.

Blood. Everywhere. Running down his shirt, smearing onto Hisoka, pooling at his feet. He looked up, and saw more of the red dripping off the walls and ceiling and onto the floor in an ever-growing pool, though there was none a second ago. Tsuzuki wasn't sure what was reality-this whole situation felt as if it were a dream-but he knew one thing.

_Demon._

_Murderer._

_Freak._

_Killer._

_MONSTER._

"No!"

Tsuzuki leapt backwards, flattening himself against the door in his horror.

He knew.

Hisoka stepped away from the window, eyes wide in shock. He lifted a hand up to his throat, and fingered his clothing where Tsuzuki had singed them.

"Tsu...Tsuzuki?" he asked, face ashen. "What..."

Tsuzuki took one look at Hisoka, at the overturned room, at the sheets strewn everywhere with red stains on them, at the blood everywhere. He turned, and ran out of the inn, tears streaking down his face.

* * *

He didn't know what possessed him to walk through the hallways of the inn.

He was in his late forties, and was already well into mid-life crisis. His joints pained him during the day, and insomnia kept him up at night. He has stooped and heavily-built, with days-old stubble growing on his chin.

Once, he had been a proud man, owning a well-kept inn that had been passed-down through his family. Once, he was young and fit and bright and knew how to make good business. Now, he had fallen upon hard times. Now, his inn was practically unknown. Now, he was just another strange, eccentric older man who happened to own a run-down inn.

But these two new visitors...they were new.

They were young, they were kind, and they were _different_ in ways he couldn't quite explain. After being by himself all this time, it's little wonder that they fascinated him.

Maybe that was why he was walking through these hallways, gazing up at the familiar wallpaper, setting his feet upon a route he knew well enough that he could probably find his way around in his sleep.

Suddenly, he sniffed the air. Was that...blood he could smell? Yes, yes, that was definitely the smell of blood, he wouldn't mistake it anywhere.

It was coming from the door of the room he gave the two visitors. He rushed for the door, forgetting all about his aching joints. Before opening it, however, he paused. Should he give the two their privacy? But what if they were in real trouble?

The eerie silence that came from behind the door made up his mind.

Quickly, he grabbed one of the master keys from his belt and opened the door, pushing his way inside.

"Are you two -" he stopped. The room looked like a tornado had whisked its way through it.

Sheets were strewn all over the floor, twisted up and ripped. The thin curtains which covered the ajar window were hopelessly maimed as well. And...were those claws that ripped the wallpaper - and the wood underneath - into ribbons?

But whatever happened, there wasn't any blood. Not a drop anywhere in the room, although the smell hung heavy in the air.

And the two visitors have disappeared.

He shook his head. He must have just been imagining things, and it sure was a good thing they weren't in here. He was about to leave and tally up the damages from his rapidly-shrinking pool of funds when he saw a card on the ground beside a stack of bills and a metal key.

He picked up the money first, then the cheap paper. He held the card carefully, then turned it over and over before finally reading the neat - if hurried-handwriting.

_Sorry about the damages, and for our abrupt departure._

_Hope this is enough to pay for everything._

That was all - no names, no signatures, no anything. Just a card, the room key, and money.

Quickly, he counted the money. Then recounted. This couldn't be right - there was almost double the amount of money here than he needed. They must have made a mistake.

But there wasn't anyone here to talk to, to give the money back.

Bushy eyebrows raised, he shook his head and left the room, tucking the money into a shirt pocket. He sent a silent _thank you_ to his visitors—whoever they were.

Had he seem the single shimmering form perched outside the window, he may have thought differently. (1)

* * *

Konoe shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Shouldn't Tsuzuki and Hisoka have checked in with us by now?" he asked Tatsumi, "I mean, it's been almost a full day...They must have gotten _something_."

"I'm not sure if it's time to start worrying yet, Konoe," Tatsumi replied, equally nervous. "I'm sure they're just busy."

"Either way, I'm going to call them, just to make sure," Konoe muttered under his breath. He picked up the phone on his desk and dialed. And waited. Finally, someone picked up at the other end.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar man said, and the phone crackled.

"Hello," Konoe replied. "Could I speak with Tsuzuki Asato or Hisoka Kurosaki?"

"Who?"

"They should be two of the people staying at your inn."

There was a pause. "I'm sorry, but currently, there are no people staying in my inn. The last people moved out an hour ago."

What? "Oh. Thank you for your time," Konoe replied. "Goodbye." He hung up.

"Well?" Tatsumi raised one eyebrow.

Konoe sighed, resting his head on his table. "They've seemed to have checked out of the inn." Those two are the reason why he was - he _is_ - so old.

"What? Why would they?" Tatsumi was shocked. "They have no reason to check out so early. What's going on?" Something was wrong - he knew it. Shinigami don't just up and leave a perfectly good hotel on the first day of an investigation. Speaking of, they should be investigating! Something was wrong.

Tatsumi's hand itched for the phone, to call Tsuzuki or Hisoka and demand why they left. But it was pointless, he knew.

Something was wrong...he. This whole case was wrong, like a strange case of déjà-vu. Before, it seemed good to give to the two, but now, Tatsumi wasn't so sure that it was a good idea. Something feels wrong about it.

Tatsumi ground his teeth - subtly, of course. He wished fervently that he could actually _do_ something. He never felt so helpless in his life.

He never thought he knew so little.

* * *

Tsuzuki ran, not caring about where he went, as long as it was far, _far_ away from Hisoka.

His mind, as ifstuck on replay, kept going over the scene again and again. Him, leaning over the sixteen-year-old, teeth long and sharp, Hisoka's shocked and hurt face.

What had he been _doing_?

"_But what's one lost life among the many you have already taken? And will take in the future? Yes, the oceans will run red with the blood you have spilled."_

No.

"_This boy is dead, in either case. His life taken from your hands, if I recall correctly. He is of no use to you, and he hates you anyway. Give up, and come to me. You'll be powerful beyond all understanding."_

No.

"_We'll see. But first, I need to get rid of him." _

"No!"

Tsuzuki shouted out loud, not caring anymore if people saw. But there were no people to be found in these alleyways in which he was running through, no human where he was going...

He couldn't go back, not to Hsioka, not to Meifu. Who would want a demon killer like him?

The blood staining his clothes...his sleepless nights in which he woke up, panting and excited and frightened and exhausted all at once...

_"You're the most wonderful weapon, did you know that, Tsuzuki? You have enough power in you to destroy an entire world, easily. You feel it, don't you? Feel it growling restless inside you. It doesn't like being contained, did you know that?"_

_"But when the time comes, it will be wonderful. With you, I can destroy all the evil in the world. There will no longer be any need of war, or of theft, or of crime."_

_"The people who would have to die...they are the ones that do not deserve to live."_

Tsuzuki ran, tears of self-hatred streaming down his cheeks.

Now he knew who was the killer of those criminals.

_They are the ones who do not deserve to live..._

…_Do not deserve to live._

Enma was right-there were people in the world who do not deserve to live.

Or one particular demon, to be specific.

Him.

Tsuzuki ran, sobbing, looking for some place where he could summon Touda without killing even more people.

He searched, sobbing, heart and mind and soul broken beyond repair.

Searched for a place to kill just one more.

He never made it that far.

* * *

Back in Meifu, things weren't going very smoothly, either.

Tatsumi was worried out of his mind.

Where was Hisoka and Tsuzuki? Why did they leave? What in the world was going on?

Unexpectedly, he slammed his pen against the desk, and massaged the bridge of his nose.

He couldn't calculate this month's figures while worrying about the two shinigami. After two hours trying, he'd finally given up.

He shouldn't let two people have this much control over his life, but it was too late to realize that now. Hisoka and Tsuzuki were part of him now.

There was a knock at the door, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Come in." He quickly rearranged his features so that he looked as calm and composed as ever, not even hinting at the storm of indesicion below the surface.

Gushoshin the younger floated in, carrying a folder of paper.

"Tatsumi?" he said, his voice shaking slightly. "I think you'd want to see this."

Tatsumi's ears perked up, eager for anything to get his mind off his worries. Gushoshin handed the folder to him.

"We've found signs of Muraki. Apparently, he's still alive, unfortunantly," he explained nervously.

Tatsumi's eyes narrowed. This wasn't good. "Where?"

"In Kyoto."

Tatsumi stood up, almost knocking his chair to the floor. Gushoshin tumbled backwards at the force of Tatsumi's panic; it was almost as bad as the time when Tsuzuki disappeared with Muraki after destroying half the buildings in the area.

"When was he last seen?" Tatsumi demanded.

"Yesterday. My brother and I are sorry that we haven't gotten this to you sooner, but we only found this now."

Tatsumi narrowed his eyes. "Why hasn't Watari notified me about this? I've put him in charge of tracking Muraki. Don't tell me he's too busy making his newfound plaything."

Gushoshin nodded.

Tatsumi was striding out of the office with a renewed sense of purpose and uneasiness.

"We need to recall Tsuzuki and Hisoka at once!"

* * *

Hisoka sat on the ground just outside the inn. The concrete was warm from the sun, and smooth from years of wear and tear.

He covered his face with his hands, ignoring the stares and questions of passing people.

What just happened?

He remembered in a haze, of being roughly awakened. He remembered staring into the blank, deep violet eyes of a demon who was half-crazed. He recalled being forcible shoved to his feet and pinned against the wall, having sharp claws tear into his skin. He remembered trying in vain to fight back, then realizing that there was no point. Tsuzuki was just too strong. He remembered giving in.

What happened? What's happening?

He remembered realizing that this was not Tsuzuki's fault, knowing this the moment Tsuzuki pulled away, horror and sanity now bright in the amethyst eyes.

Hisoka remembered just standing there staring at the door where Tsuzuki had been standing just moment ago, wondering what the heck just happened, and hearing the owner of the inn coming nearer. He remembered being afraid-of everything. He gave his money-everything he had in his wallet (he didn't trust banks)-so that they could pay off the owner, and then ran.

But what happened?

Something happened to Tsuzuki. Hisoka knew deep in his heart that Tsuzuki would never have hurt Hisoka, intentionally or otherwise. Ever.

Oh, no. Just think of how Tsuzuki must feel right now. His emotionally-unstable partner, who would lead himself to believe that _anything_ was his fault, who's probably going off blaming himself for almost killing Hisoka.

But to go and confront Tsuzuki now...that wasn't a very good idea. For all Hisoka knew, it would just set him off further.

He would wait a few hours, then find Tsuzuki and hope for the best. Wait a few hours, then he needed to be with Tsuzuki. To help, to defend, to comfort, he wasn't exactly sure.

All he knew was that something big has happened, and he was needed. Not just yet, though.

But soon.

Soon, everything will be all sorted out, and everything will end up fine, and it will be a happily-ever-after for everyone.

Hisoka snorted.

Yeah, right.

* * *

********

**(1) Yes, the owner of the inn has no name. I suck at making names, especially ones in Japenese. Knowing me, I'd probably accidentally name him SadisticEvilSerialMurderer, or FluffyPinkUnicorns, or Jdsafjejfndjfhjkfhkdhfjdh, or something like that :P So, no name.**


	7. Broken Lock & Lost Key pt 3, Not Quite

**Sorry for the longish delay...**

**I'm in a love-hate relationship with this chapter. It was relatively easy to write - but took so freaking long to edit. :(**

**Oh well. At least it's up.**

* * *

The shadow was here, and then he was gone.

He ghosted through the city under the cover of midnight, and flitted through pools of pale moonlight like a moth, except drawn to darkness rather than light.

He crept between two tall, looming buildings, buildings, which, seen during the day, would not be given more than a cursory glance. But things change after sunset - becoming twisted and strange until, to a passerby's eye, everything was a killer, with grabbing hands and evil motives, ready to pounce upon the next person to come their way.

The shadow was a creature of the night.

Midnight was his favourite, the witching hour where the air was so completely dark, it is almost too bright. The wind left an afterimage when one closed one's eyes, as if the sun's rays have been seared into the eyeball.

Here, he could finally drop the pretense of being either wholly dark, or light. For the shadow was a person (a man, perhaps, it you can found a way to justify it), who was neither; a person of his own. He helped no one but himself, thought of no one but himself, though he was so skilled at lying that he could almost say that, yes there was one he loved. Perhaps two. None of them any person you would likely meet anytime soon.

This time of day, when the boundaries of love and hate blurred, when life and death are so deeply entwined, when anything could be anybody, when dreams become reality and reality becomes naught but a wistful wish - this is where he truly belonged.

Midnight. The witching hour where nothing but the most evil of creatures stir, when everything is frozen like some strange wax tableau, where vengeful spirits, confined to that one hour of the day, made as much mischief as possible. A single hour.

Of course, the shadow wasn't your typical vengeful spirit. He was special, one that could live in both the dark and the light, and yet belonged to neither.

Briefly, he paused to think dearly about another, who was so much like himself. Such thoughts would get vehemently denied if spoken during the glow of the sun, of course, but not now. Now, such thoughts run rabid in the streets, ransacking and corrupting whenever it could.

This time day, when there was no need to lie anymore, and deny his true nature. He no longer had to pretend that he cared about the lives of meaningless, weak-minded humans. It was exhilarating, like washing off the dirt and dust of the day.

He loved midnight.

But today, there was no time to savour the emotion, no time to listen to the sweet music of fear and uncertainty that so often graced his ears. Today, there was work needed to be done.

The shadow crept through the dark alleyways, long coat swishing around long legs until he finally reached his destination. A small inn.

And in front, a teenager sat on the curb, head raised as if searching for someone in the crowd. Frozen in time—well, at least for this night.

The shadow smiled at the boy's blond locks, and caressed the soft yet unmoving cheek of the youth. He wished he could stay here, play around with the boy for the while, but he hadn't the time. And it's _so_ much more fun when his victims are awake.

He reached into one of the many pockets of his coat, and pulled something out. Depositing it beside the teen and trusting that it will stay there (it will, simply because he wished for it to stay), he checked his watch.

He then quickly dematerialized in a shower of feathers.

The shadow was here, and then he was gone.

So much to do in so little time.

* * *

Hisoka stared out at the street, marveling that, even past midnight, the roads were still full with throngs of people.

Of course, this thought was made in a split second, only to be overwhelmed by worry and grief over—who else?—Tsuzuki.

Hisoka sighed, then rested his head on his knees and dropped his hands at his side. _Just wait a little while more_, he told himself. _Give Tsuzuki some time to cool off, then go after him._

His fingers, instead of meeting the rough concrete ground they were expecting, instead felt the smooth coolness of paper.

"Huh?"

Hisoka picked it up, and examined it under the orange glow of a nearby streetlight.

It was an envelope, ivory-coloured (he thought), thick, and very heavy. Obviously very expensive, and definitely nothing anyone back at Meifu would care to afford. On the back, in flowing writing, it was addressed:

_To Hisoka_

He swallowed. He had a bad feeling about where this came from.

But how had it gotten to him? He was sure that no one had come near him all this time, and he had heard nothing about this with his empathy. He shook his head as if to chase away such thoughts—what matters the most was that it reached him.

He opened the flap, and reached inside, expecting a letter or some other sort of communication.

Instead, there was only a small piece of paper, and a small lock of hair. Tsuzuki's hair—he would recognize it anywhere. And on the paper, an address.

And then Hisoka was running.

He stuffed the envelope into the pocket of his jacket, something he managed to snag before leaving the inn. He clutched the small piece of paper and the hair in his fist as if they would lend him strength for the coming fight.

Yes, a fight. That was what was going to happen, he was sure of it.

"Tsuzuki, you baka," Hisoka muttered under his breath. "Why did you have to run?" He panted and his body shivered from nervous anticipation of what was to come.

_Give Tsuzuki some time to cool off, then go after him?_

Ha. It'll be the end of them both.

No, he was coming for Tsuzuki—coming at full speed, as Tsuzuki had done back in Nagasaki, so long (was it only two years?) ago. He would repay the deed Tsuzuki had done for him so many times.

"I'm coming for you," Hisoka murmured, racing through the streets of Kyoto.

* * *

"Are you sure he is well and truly broken?"

"Why, of course—I made sure of it personally. Do you doubt my judgment?"

"No, no. Of course not. So the next stage can begin?"

"Yes. Now."

* * *

Tsuzuki was drenched in darkness.

There was no light in his heart—that was gone the moment he attacked Hisoka. There was no light in his soul—why would there be for a murderer like him? There was no light in the room he was trapped in.

His arms were bent and chained to the wall somewhere above his head. Where, he wasn't exactly sure; he'd lost feeling of his fingers a few hours back. The room was underground, although he didn't feel the cold through his thin, blood-stained dress shirt. His legs were folded awkwardly underneath him; there wasn't enough room in his position to stretch them out.

The demon within him snarled and growled and paced restlessly at the injustice—the humiliation - of being trapped and chained up. The demon detested being chained.

The human in him couldn't care less. The will to live had disappeared along with the light. The human had valued friendship above everything else in life, and there he was, about to kill his best friend, his partner.

The human had locked the demon into its own small cage, knowing that it was the demon who was the soulless killer of the two. Chained and hobbled and bound and muzzled and caged the demon so that it couldn't harm anyone else.

Tsuzuki Asato bowed his head. He could probably easily get out of these chains, but he didn't want to. Not anymore.

Tsuzuki Asato was a mixture of the demon and human. But his human side would always be stronger, no matter what he says. It was his human side which made him run away from Hisoka. It was his human side which constructed mental blocks around his mind, so that neither Hisoka nor his shikigami would get pulled into this situation. It was the human side who sat there, chained up, not an ounce of fight in his body.

_Almost like Touda_, some part of his wandering mind whispered. Yes, _almost_ like Touda. Except for a few crucial differences: Touda was not a killer, and Tsuzuki had no wish to leave his prison.

The rest of Tsuzuki's mind played various scenes of his life, over and over like a broken DVD stuck on replay. Scenes of his life, of his death(s) of the lives he had taken, of his past partners, of Muraki, of Touda's fires, of the memory of every single soul he'd damned. Over and over.

And, in the very last slide, an image of Hisoka smiling. Smiling at him.

Tsuzuki quickly shook his head, dispelling the memory. He didn't deserve Hisoka, couldn't deserve anyone as innocent and _good_ as his partner.

And, somewhere deep inside him, he knew.

He knew that if they ever meet again, Hisoka would never look at him the same way.

It was in this strange form of pain and self-torture that the shadow found him.

* * *

Tatsumi burst into Watari's laboratory.

The scientist was working on something on his computer, and sipping tea from a mug when he looked up. "What's wrong, Tatsumi?"

"This," Tatsumi said coldly, and in an act of extreme self-control, he managed to wave Gushoshin's file under Watari's nose without seeming angry. Much.

Watari took the file, and paled. "What's this?" he sputtered.

"Exactly. What is it?" Tatsumi hissed.

"But I've found no sign of this! At all!"

"Maybe you weren't looking hard enough. Concentrating on a new invention, perhaps?"

Watari was speechless as he stared at the information which could very well end up killing Hisoka and Tsuzuki.

"Watari! I trusted you to keep an eye out for Muraki! _Trusted_ you to keep _them_ safe! And then what do I find?"

Watari stood up, clutching the file tightly in his hand. "We need to recall them, now."

Tatsumi's voice was like ice. "Too late. Konoe's not here, not that he would be able to do anything. Convenient that he disappears whenever we need him, no?"

"Well, what about communication?"

"Tsuzuki and Hisoka signed out of their inn a while ago. They haven't been seen since."

"This ain't good," Watari muttered. "Well, can we get find them?"

Tatsumi sighed, and for the first time, looked exhausted. "If we go now, we might be able to catch up to them. It's against the rules to go into the living world without proper authorization from the chief, but since Konoe isn't here, I don't think it matters anymore."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

Without a further word, the two dematerialized, in search of the missing shinigami.

Watari's mug of tea sat lonely beside the computer, its heat dying slowly without the hand that kept it warm.

* * *

The shadow stood in the open doorway, blocking most of the light that streamed into the windowless room.

"Hmm," the shadow said, almost conversationally. "Who do we have here?"

Tsuzuki knew that voice. He'd recognize it anywhere.

"Muraki."

His voice - no expression, no emotion. Simply a sign of recognition. Tsuzuki hung his head low, limp against his restraints. What was the point of fighting anymore?

Muraki stepped into the room and crouched right in front of the shinigami. "Did you miss me, Tsuzuki?" he purred. He took put one finger under Tsuzuki's chin and lifted his head.

Limp bangs soaked in blood—but not necessarily his - hung in front of the shinigami's eyes, and the eyes beneath were dull and silted against the light. Muraki loved that, loved the way Tsuzuki looked so hopeless. It was almost as if Tsuzuki _disliked_ him. Perish the thought.

"My dear little doll," he murmured, leaning closer until they were nose to nose. "My precious, precious little doll. Pity I won't be able to play with you for much longer."

Tsuzuki's traitor heart began to beat faster. Muraki smirked.

"You won't be a doll much longer, Tsuzuki," he whispered in Tsuzuki's ear, caressing his cheek. Another hand was snaking up his arm to hold his hand. "A doll is only a puppet with its strings cut, and you soon won't be."

"I hope you haven't hurt our guest," another figure stepped into the room, a figure with long hair and eyes that almost seemed to glow. Inhuman.

Tsuzuki's heart sank. Muraki, he could handle. Whatever Muraki did, it would be to him and him alone, and he could stand it, so long as no one else was hurt. But not this person.

Muraki jumped away from Tsuzuki. "Of course not. Since when have I ever?" he said coolly.

Enma only had eyes for the chained shinigami. Slowly, a triumphant smirk found its way to the emperor's face. "Long time no see, Tsuzuki. Thought you've gotten rid of me?"

Tsuzuki lifted his head long enough to glare, then, out of energy, dropped it back. He leaned forwards against his bindings. "No," he murmured, almost inaudibly.

The emperor ignored his words, and turned to Muraki. "You did well, Kazutaka."

Muraki smiled. "As ever."

"Now, now. Don't be so confident. Words like that have a tendency to return and bite you in the neck, you know."

Muraki's smile vanished. "Yes, of course."

Tsuzuki's mind was reeling. Two of his biggest enemies, joined to...what? Presumably, to follow some strange plan made by Enma.

With a jolt, he realized that this was the first time he thought of Enma as an enemy. After everything he had done to Tsuzuki, after everything he had planned, he still thought Enma as an emperor, a master of sorts.

But now, now was different. Enma was most definitely an enemy. One of the worse kinds.

Enma looked down upon the shinigami. "I guess that now, you're probably wondering why you're here. Then again, isn't it obvious?" His cold eyes were empty, icy wastelands now, gleaming with the same sort of light a cat has when it hunts.

Yes, it was obvious. It was very obvious why.

"Why do you...follow him?" Tsuzuki asked Muraki, gasping a little. His current position did not allow him for long conversations.

And why would Muraki follow someone such as Enma? All the time Tsuzuki had chased after the mad doctor, all the time he had cursed and fought, he would never think that Muraki would give up a position of upper hand, and move to where he was so sorely at loss.

"Because, we have a deal," Muraki replied, serious for once. "Once his ideals are fulfilled, I will keep my life. And I will have _you_, my dear Tsuzuki." He glanced at Enma, who remained as unreadable as ever. "The lord...his plan is good. He would have been able to get to you without me. But I make your life easier, do I not, my lord?" Muraki smiled carefully. It was easy to see who had the upper hand here—not the doctor dressed in white - that was for sure. "And, after all, it is only expected that the doll obey its master, no?"

Tsuzuki barely stifled a small squeak of shock. Muraki stared at him now. "What? You thought I was a natural creature? No, my lord has planned and shaped me from birth. It was he who commanded my for all these years, and he who-"

"Enough."

Muraki fell silent immediately, while Enma continued to stare at Tsuzuki. "You know why you're here. So, how do you plan to act upon it?"

"I...I will never follow you," Tsuzuki growled.

"Oh, really?" Enma seemed almost amused. "So quick to reject me...Maybe this will convince you?" He nodded at Muraki, who left the room. Not seconds later, he came back carrying a limp body.

Tsuzuki's eyes widened, and he strained against his chains. "What did you do to him?" he shouted.

"_I_ didn't do anything to this boy...Hisoka is his name, is it not? He merely walked into Muraki's barriers that surround this area. Don't worry...he is just unconscious." Muraki dumped Hisoka's body onto the floor, as Enma went nearer to the prone figure. "You wouldn't want anything to...happen to Hisoka, would you?" He placed two fingers onto Hisoka's forehead.

"No!" Tsuzuki pulled at his bonds, to no avail. _Enma must have cast a spell on the chains_, he thought in frustration.

No matter what happened to him, no matter what tortures he had to bear, he didn't care. He would throw away his own blood-stained life, cast it down upon to the feet of his enemies, so long as the people he loved were safe.

But...now...

Why had Hisoka come here? Out of the corner of his eye, Tsuzuki could see Muraki smirk, just the tiniest bit.

So that was it. Hisoka had been lured here, probably because of him. That was just the way Hisoka was. One he had found someone to love, no matter how much that person would hurt him, no matter what the person would do to him, he was loyal to the very end. Even if that person was not deserving of anyone's love, least of all his.

And because that...

Once again, Tsuzuki would kill the people he loved.

"Perhaps the threat upon this boy's life will be enough to make you listen," Enma murmured. He nodded at Muraki, who quickly scurried out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Once Muraki was gone, Enma sat down, not caring that he was sitting on a stony, incredibly grimy floor. The emperor reached inside his robes and pulled out a...box. A single small, wooden box.

In the dark, Tsuzuki couldn't quite tell what colour it was, even with his enhanced night vision. He thought it was made of a rich, deep crimson rosewood. It was a simple box, not decorated at all save for a small vine carving around the outer rim of the lid. Also attached to the lid by a slender pale ribbon was a tiny wooden key, its shape not at all unlike the ones he and Hisoka used at the inn.

"Maybe...when we met in my court, I have not told you the whole story," Enma said, toying with the box with long, pale fingers. There was a long pause while Tsuzuki stared at the still body of Hisoka, trying to determine how badly he was hurt. Once being reasonable sure that whatever Muraki had done didn't harm the boy too badly, he turned his head to Enma who began speaking again.

"Do you know what this is?" the emperor asked. Tsuzuki shook his head and stared at the box in Enma's hands. Somehow...the simple box mesmerized him. It gave him a strange sense of nostalgia.

For once, Enma seemed almost anxious.

"This box...this is Pandora's box. And you are the last evil it contained. Tsuzuki, you are hope."

* * *

Tsuzuki laughed, and even he winced at how hysterical it sounded.

"Me? Hope?" he asked hoarsely, suddenly feeling reckless. "I think you're mistaken."

Enma said nothing, just turned the box around so that the hinges faced Tsuzuki now. But instead of the smooth, flawless wood the rest of the box was made of, the back was marred by the small, messy hole near the bottom, gouged out of the red wood.

"When Pandora opened the box, all the evils of the world flew out, corrupting the people of Earth. Except for one. Hope.

"But darkness calls to darkness, and power to power. And, eventually, the last evil clawed its way out as well to be with its brethren.

"The leaders of both Heaven and Hell were afraid of this...evil, for they had no idea what it could do. Perhaps, as the overseer of Heaven thought, it would turn everyone to the darkness and blacken innocent hearts with hopelessness-the absence of hope. Or, maybe, it would enpower people with hope so that none of them will ever look towards the darkness ever again. And, in a fit of cooperation, the two worlds collaborated out of fear, capturing and sealing this last evil in the body of a human.

"They gave this human powers that of no human have had before, knowing that sooner or later, the evil will be released if the human were to remain as he was. Heaven gave him the power of healing, of love. Of charisma, so that people will not prosecute him. Hell gave him the power of demons so that he may be able to protect himself. Even the emperor of Gensoukai watched with interest, knowing that this might affect his world someday.

"And if you still can't guess, that human is you. Tsuzuki, you are blessed with the power of five worlds."

* * *

_Warmdarkmothersafe._

_Content._

_Wait…what's happening?_

_No! Put me back!_

_Strong arms pull me out, into a cold-bright-_dangerous_ world._

* * *

Tsuzuki narrowed his eyes. Although he didn't trust the crazed emperor one bit, he couldn't deny that every word rang true in his ears.

* * *

_Crying loudly as rough hands handle me and clean and shove._

_Eyes are still closed, but seeing brief snatches of light—brightbrightbright light and dark—blackdarkbad darkness. Feel the warmth of feathers, the ice of leathery wings. _Sleep,_ they said._

_No! Don't want to sleep, not yet._

_They left._

* * *

"Yeah, so?" he said finally eyes upon the box where the evil-him?-broke out of its prison. "Okay, so lets say I'm some sort of holding box for this hope. So? Why do you need me? It's not like hope can kill all these people, like the way your plan says it will. Hope gives people strength, doesn't it? And what do you mean, the powers of five worlds?"

Enma replied. "Five worlds. Heaven, Hell, Gensoukai, as well as Meifu and the living world.

"And in fact, I had believed that hope is the thing that gives weak humans like this one-" he pointed at Hisoka as Tsuzuki stiffened "-strength. But, since then, I've found that I had been wrong.

"I know this world, and have seen what it does to people." Enma's strange, unnatural eyes stared off into the distance. "Hope...it does not lend people strength. It simply makes them long to live longer...to prolong their torment. I makes them act foolishly, believing that everything will end up fine. And those that do believe in hope, believe in it with all their heart, once they discover that it is not the miracle they believed in-and they will, all of them-they will go mad from the betrayal of their hearts. Hope hurts everything, even the ones who love it, even just by being itself. Hope...is exceptionally cruel."

* * *

_Strong-rough hands wrap him in cloth._

They're_ gone, but something remains. Something bright and dark and _not me_._

_Placed in the soft caress of another…_Asato_ the voice murmured into his ear._

_Mother._

_Happycontentlonging to see mother - to see_ love_._

_Opens eyes._

_Sharp cries and gasps sound loud._

Mother,_ I said._

* * *

"So? What does that have to do with your plan?" Tsuzuki demanded. Anything to keep him from believing in these...impossibilities. Anything to keep these newfound, unwanted memories out of his mind. He forcefully blocked them out.

Enma smiled. "Well, now...it seems like I've told a little fib."

Tsuzuki's heart sank even further.

"See, you, Tsuzuki Asato, don't have to be alive to destroy the human world. If you live, your demonic abilities are already more than enough to destroy such a weak, unstable world. If you die, then the true evil of hope will be unleashed. Humans will be so overcome knowing the truth of their so-called 'hope', they'd rather kill themselves than live with their hopelessness. Either way, people die.

"But here, here is where we make a deal." Enma smiled now, a full, real smile. A truly horrifying sight. "If you die, not only humans will die. Heaven and Hell, being technically dead and content in their status, are immune to the evil, no matter what they fear. Your beloved shinigami friends, on the other hand..." Enma paused and Tsuzuki could feel his heart beating madly in his chest. "They used to be living people - they know of human emotions. They've been with humans long enough to have feeling, and they, I'm afraid, will end up dying as well."

"No," Tsuzuki whispered, voice hoarse. Now, even his _death_ will bring along the deaths of everyone he loved.

"So this is our deal," Enma said. "You will give your soul to me, and I will take full command of your powers. I have no wish to kill my own employees. If you sign over your soul, I will kill the pitiful humans only.

"But if you refuse...well, unfortunately, I will have to kill you again. I will sacrifice my world to have this...this evil...this _human_, wiped from existence. My world-it can be reborn. Either way, I _will_ make my plan into reality."

Tsuzuki went limp in his chains, lowering his head for the first time since Enma came into the room. This...this was too much to handle.

The deaths of two worlds...!

"You're crazy," he snarled.

Enma shrugged. "Maybe so, but I am determined, as you people put it." He stood up and went to the door. Before leaving, he glanced at Hisoka. "I will keep him here, maybe his presence will help you make the right decision. I will give you one hour, Tsuzuki. One hour to make your decision, before I return. Make the right one."

With that, Enma left the room, closing and locking the door behind him, leaving Tsuzuki in an even deeper darkness than before.

* * *

Tatsumi stared at the innkeeper, as if he could get the information he wanted through the sheer force of his glare.

"For the last time, I don't know when or where or why your people left!" the innkeeper exclaimed, exasperated. "And they left all their belongings behind, too. Do you want that?"

Watari shook his head, frustration beginning to build up. "No, keep them for when they return. Are you sure you don't have anything at all?"

The innkeeper shook his head, then rubbed his chin for a minute. "Well, the two left my room in a mess-it looked as if they were having a fight in there! And the smell of blood was everywhere, although there wasn't any anywhere. But they paid for the damages, so I suppose that is fine." He thought for a minute. "Oh-and late in the night, there was the boy you were talking about sitting on the sidewalk in front of my inn. The older one wasn't with him. The boy left in a hurry after a while."

Tatsumi and Watari glanced at each other - it was common knowledge that shinigami blood disappeared in the real world if left alone long enough.

This was getting more serious by the minute.

"Which way did the boy run?" Tatsumi demanded.

The innkeeper sighed, and pointed with a finger. "That way. Now will you leave me alone? You're making me lose business."

Tatsumi quickly thanked him, and he and Watari ran out of the inn.

They've spent most of the last hour checking where the two shinigami might have been. So far - nothing, except for this one lead.

"So now what? Hisoka could be anywhere by now," Watari complained. "And what does that guy mean Tsuzuki wasn't with him?" He kicked a small pebble on the sidewalk.

Tatsumi rubbed the bridge of his nose, fervently hoping that Tsuzuki and Hisoka were fine and that they were all worrying for no reason. "Think about it," he said finally. "First, the two go missing - leaving practically everything behind and the room destroyed. I'm going to assume blood was everywhere. Next, Hisoka shows up on the sidewalk without Tsuzuki, then runs off in some random direction. If that doesn't tell you something's wrong, I don't know what does."

Watari nodded slowly. "I know. But still - how do we find them?"

"Well, what's in that general direction? Apart from houses and the such, although there is a possibility that Hisoka was going to one of those as well."

Shrugging, Watari listed half a dozen places. "But Hisoka and Tsuzuki could be at any one of them, or they might have doubled back."

"Think, Watari! They wouldn't go to a restaurant, not if they left so hurriedly. And it's not like Muraki would invite them to any-the better restaurants would be downtown. And I doubt they would be going to a park, there's too many people. Actually, cross out any more well-known places with a lot of people. Now, what does that leave us?"

"Umm...a couple of warehouses, a few blocks of houses, the port, and an old art museum that's scheduled for demolition. I think. I've been researching a lot about this place lately."

Tatsumi nodded, thinking. "Now, let's assume the worst-that Muraki has the two. Where would he most likely be, knowing his liking for flair? Not run-down warehouses, that's for sure."

Watari's eyes lit up. "The old museum!"

"Well, it's worth a look around, don't you think?"

* * *

Tsuzuki leaned his head tiredly against the cold stone wall.

This...was just crazy. Him? The last evil from Pandora's Box? Gifted by five worlds? There was no way he would be as important as this. A day ago, he only had the most basic knowledge of Pandora's Box. And now? Apparently, he was the last of its evils! Heck, a _month_ ago, he thought Enma was sane.

Although, he would never admit it, but…if he really _was_ the last evil, and everything Enma had said was true, a lot of things made sense, now.

And what in the world was he supposed to choose? If he died, he'd kill everyone. If he lived, Enma would probably find a way to get what he wanted. Namely, his soul and his powers.

Thanks, but he'd rather keep his soul, if that was alright.

No matter what happened, he had never dreamed that he would be this dangerous to Earth. All his life, all he wanted was to protect everyone, to make them happy...

And the choices he had were ridiculous. For him to choose between his friends or his soul...? Of course he would protect his friends foremost (to even consider the other choice was unthinkable). But how was he supposed to know that Enma would hold up his side of the bargain?

"Tsu...Tsuzuki?"

Tsuzuki would have jumped up about a metre if he hadn't been chained down. "Hisoka?" he asked nervously.

"Right here."

The still lump that was Hisoka moved and wriggled.

"Are you okay, Hisoka?" Tsuzuki asked, worried. "Muraki didn't hurt you or anything, right?"

Hisoka scowled from his position sprawled on the ground. "You should be talking - you're the one who's been kidnapped. So, you're the last evil of the infamous Pandora's Box, huh?" He took note of Tsuzuki's surprised appearance. "I was awake through your talk with Enma. I guess Muraki sensed that, hence the handcuffs."

Hisoka raised his right hand, which Tsuzuki now saw was cuffed to the far wall, out of reach. Hisoka shrugged. "He's fast, I'll give him that."

Tsuzuki still looked unconvinced at the state of his well-being, so Hisoka sat up, wincing just the tiniest bit. "See? Fine. So save your worrying for yourself, baka. What are you going to choose?"

Tsuzuki swallowed thickly. "I don't know. I have no idea what to do, Hisoka!—" Then, as if remembering who he was talking to, he stopped abruptly and stared at the ground.

He shouldn't be talking to Hisoka. After all, wasn't it he who was trying to kill his partner just a few hours ago? It was good that he was chained up—that way, he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone. Not right now, at least.

Hisoka frowned. "Tsuzuki? What's wrong?" He stretched forwards, but couldn't quite reach the other shinigami. "If this is about what happened in the inn room, forget it. It's behind us now—this is far more important."

"I tried to kill you, Hisoka," Tsuzuki whispered. "How can I forget that?"

"If it's about that, if it's about the murders in Kyoto, don't worry. None of it was your fault! I heard Muraki and Enma talking about it—they used your body and forced it to do it. Look at me. None. Of. It. Was. Your. Fault."

"That doesn't matter…"

Hisoka glared, green eyes blazing. "You idiot!" he snapped, then continued in a calmer voice. "Look, Tsuzuki. I don't know what happened then, and I don't care. What I _do_ know is that you weren't yourself, and that you stopped before you did anything to me. _That_ is what's important. You're not a killer, or whatever you've convinced yourself this time. _You're human_. And all humans make mistakes."

Shaking his head, Tsuzuki denied Hisoka's words. "No, that can't be right. I'm a murderer, a demon, I—"

"Shut up!" Hisoka rounded upon his partner, leaning as far forwards as was possible with his handcuffs. "Listen, Tsuzuki. _Listen_ to yourself. I don't get why the rest of our division keeps on babying you when all you do is to act pathetically and looking for pity. You're so selfish," he spat. "Look—this situation must be more important than some _thing_ that happened between us. The whole world could die because of you, and all you can think of is one event?"

Hisoka's eyes widened, and he clamped his free hand over his mouth. Did he just say all that? He didn't mean any of it—it just stemmed out of his frustration. "Oh…I mean…sorry Tsuzuki. I didn't mean any of it—"

"No, it's fine. You're right, anyway." Tsuzuki brushed aside his words with a shake of his head. He smiled at a distraught Hisoka, who couldn't quite tell if it was false. "And I think I know how I'll answer Enma."

Hisoka tried to press for more information, but Tsuzuki stayed silent.

Maybe Tsuzuki's changed. Or maybe he's hiding something. Or maybe-

Not used to not knowing everything, Hisoka leaned sullenly against the wall. But since this was _Tsuzuki_, it was only to be expected.

Silence stretched between the two until, finally, the door was opened with a brilliant burst of blinding light. Both shinigami blinked until their eyes adjusted, then stared up at the duo imposing figures of Enma and Muraki.

"So, Tsuzuki," Enma said. "Have you made your decision yet?"

* * *

Muraki stood a little behind Enma, smirking slightly. He glanced at Tsuzuki.

For a moment, he was thrown, but he didn't show it.

This Tsuzuki was a far cry from the broken creature he had brought into the museum three hours ago. Although his arms were chained to the stone wall behind him, metal cutting into tanned skin and drawing blood, this Tsuzuki sat cross-legged, straight and proud. His face was calm and sure, and his lovely purple eyes stared straight into Enma's.

No matter. Whatever Tsuzuki would do, Enma would get his way in the end. As will he.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hisoka shift on the floor, and permitted himself a smile. So his suspicion was right—the boy had only been playing possum.

He then stared forwards, at the back of his master—Enma.

Whatever happened tonight, he would be the winner in this game.

"What is your answer?" Enma asked. All eyes were on Tsuzuki—the emperor's, Muraki's, as well as Hisoka's. Each holding their breath for his decision.

Tsuzuki smiled.

"Kill me."

* * *

**o.o That wasn't supposed to happen...**

**I started this chapter with only a basic idea of what was going to happen. I guess it just wrote itself...**

**And for some reason, everyone knew Muraki and Enma were working together, right from the end of the last chapter. It wasn't _that_ obvious, was it?**

**Nah. You readers and reviewers are just awesome like that ^^**


	8. Broken Lock & Lost Key pt 4, Unexpected

**Another delay...**

**I've been watching a lot of Wolf's Rain lately **SPOILER! The ending...was...so...sad! -sniffs-**  
-huggles Kiba-  
Ahem.**

**This is kind of a messed up chapter, but I had to end it somehow, so...**

**Here it is.**

* * *

There was a long shocked silence as Tsuzuki leaned back against the wall, eyes glittering, but still completely sane.

"What? I've made my decision. Kill me."

Muraki's eyes widened, as Hisoka shouted "Tsuzuki! Are you crazy?" Only Enma seemed unsurprised, as if he knew this was how Tsuzuki would answer all along.

"Really?" the emperor said, seeming almost amused. He stepped forwards with one hand raised. "It would be such a pity, but if that is your final wish…"

"Wait." Tsuzuki stared hard at Enma. "Before you kill me, I do have a few last requests."

Enma waved a hand. "Certainly."

Tsuzuki's eyes hardened. "First of all, I want you to immediately kill the people who are hopelessly depressed, to put them out of their misery. I want you to fire all the shinigami, to get them to pass on, so that they will not feel the effects of the last evil." He refused to name himself that.

Hisoka was speechless. What was Tsuzuki thinking? But he could feel a certain sureness and calculated certainty in Tsuzuki, however muted his emotions were. For some reason, this was the path Tsuzuki wanted.

Tsuzuki continued. "And, I want to you to answer some of my questions."

"Fair enough."

Muraki sputtered. "Why not kill him now? Why draw it out?" He was silenced with a shake of Enma's hand.

"This is my decision. Do not question it. Now, Tsuzuki, what questions do you want answered?"

Tsuzuki thought for a moment, then asked, "Why didn't this 'hope' get unleashed the first time you killed me?"

Enma frowned. "That was a bit of recklessness and lack of foresight on my part. I have hoped that the hope will get unleashed upon your death, but it had not, seeing as you decided to stay a shinigami. I've refined my plan since them."

Tsuzuki nodded, seeming satisfied with the answer. "And why did you lure Hisoka here? Why did you murder all those people?"

"That is for Kazutaka to say."

Muraki smirked widely. "All the more reason to keep you here, my dear," he said, looking every inch the sly wolf who baited the young girl in the red cloak to her death. "I'm surprised you haven't figured out things sooner."

"Yes, Kazutaka here is a very loyal servant," Enma said quietly. "Although his methods do leave something to be desired. He was my first, and he was my best. Take note of this, Tsuzuki, although I wish that you answered differently. Perhaps, if that were the case, you would live to serve me just as well."

Inside, Tsuzuki was only resentful of his blindness. How hadn't he drawn the similarities between this case and the Kyoto one? How could they have overlooked that?

"One more question," Tsuzuki said, after a short pause. "Then you can kill me, or whatever. Enma—what happened to your older brother?" Suddenly, there was a mean glint in his eye, as Tsuzuki grinned widely. "Why do you insist on locking him up in the Hall of Candles? He hates it there, you know."

The seconds stretched long as the people in the room fell silent at this statement.

"Enma-Diao…has a brother?" Hisoka asked. This night was getting stranger and stranger, with more and more incredibly secrets revealed all the time. Stranger and stranger, not to mention more dangerous.

"My lord…?" Muraki asked nervously. He took a step forwards.

Enma's face was blank, although Hisoka could practically feel the temperature in the room racket up a few notches. "What did you say?"

Tsuzuki's face was composed, friendly almost, although he briefly wondered if he had pushed the emperor too far.

"Your brother." He repeated. "Hakushaku, I think is his name? Most of us just call him the Count."

"Don't mention his name!"

Never, ever has Enma been seen profoundly angry. Never, except now.

Pale face smooth, except for one bead of sweat running down his face. Strange eyes burning with barely-suppressed rage. Long fingers clenched, gripping beautifully-made robes.

Enma-Diao _never_ grew angry, or even slightly irritated. Which made this all the more frightening.

Muraki back away a bit, realizing that beside his master was not the best place for his health. Hisoka pressed himself against the wall, brow furrowed in concentration as he blocked out Enma's potent emotions. Only Tsuzuki sat, cross-legged on the ground, calm as ever.

He had nothing to lose.

_Is he suicidal?_ Hisoka wondered in worry, wondering at his actions, so out of character to the Tsuzuki he knew.

_Am I suicidal?_ Tsuzuki wondered, staring up at the emperor, already knowing the answer. He continued talking, aware that he was throwing gasoline on the proverbial fire.

"Hakushaku. Your older brother," Tsuzuki explained casually. "I've always wondered why he was always invisible, and when I searched in the records, (which took a lot of effort, mind you) his one photo looked a lot like you." Subtly, he shifted his legs so that he was crouching, almost kneeling on the ground. "Guess what? All it took was a little help from a friend of mine and I found the whole story. You, Enma-Diao, god of the dead—"

"Shut up," Enma snarled, fists balled up tightly.

"-imprisoned your own brother in a life of pain and confinement. All because you wanted the power he was to inherit. Are you proud of that?"

With that, several things happened at once.

With a low growl, Tsuzuki leapt up, a burst of dark fire breaking the chains with a dull _crack_. He shot another surge of the flame at Hisoka's handcuff, freeing him as well, before stopping just before Enma. Tsuzuki bounced lightly on his feet, readying himself for a fight.

"Impossible," Enma breathed. "I cursed those chains myself! They should have suppressed all of your power."

"Very possible," Tsuzuki corrected. "You just need to want it enough." He skipped forwards, trying make a clear path for the door. Wobbling slightly on his feet, and arms limp at his side, Tsuzuki noted with some consternation that he wasn't as strong as he would have been if he hadn't been tied up for the last few hours.

But he had to get Hisoka and himself out.

Realizing what he was doing, Enma pointed a finger at Tsuzuki, who dodged both the emperor's attack, and the explosion that resulted from it. A hole the size of his head was gouged into the stone wall where he had been only a moment before.

"I'll kill you," Enma hissed. "It makes no difference that you're free of the chains. I'll kill you and be done with it!"

Tsuzuki ducked under another attack, and ran to where Hisoka was shakily standing. "No," he replied to Enma's words. "You're wrong. Hope won't kill the world. Far from it—hope is what gives people the strength to live their lives. Hope comforts people in times of need, keeps them away from bleakness. It gives life, it can't take life away. Hope doesn't know how to." His eyes became hard. "I don't know what happened to you that made you forget the value of life, but you have no right to take away others' lives. Call me a hypocrite, but that's not the way the world works. I'm not saying that _I'm_ hope, or whatever, but whatever happens, I'm going to stop you." He hated the thought of killing another person, but Enma was right in this respect: there are some people in the world who deserve death.

Wildly running forwards, Tsuzuki shouldered aside the emperor, and tried to push Hisoka out. "Go. Get away." He didn't give Hisoka a chance to answer.

Suddenly, Hisoka was ripped from his hands, slammed back into the wall with the force of Enma's next attack. He could taste blood in his mouth, and more soaking through his shirt, and struggled to stay conscious. His body was strong, it could withstand this.

"No."

Stepping away from the fallen boy, Tsuzuki bared his pointed teeth, seemingly unconsciously, and could feel his fingernails lengthening, growing stronger and sharper. Without looking he knew that at the tips of his fingers, there were now ten diamond-sharp claws.

Tsuzuki snarled, and prepared to blast the emperor with demon fire, when pain exploded in his forehead.

_He's trying to get into my mind!_ He thought through the haze.

A practice that had been banned long ago, only the oldest and most powerful of people have the ability of getting into other's minds. It was a difficult process, but once completed, they could have full control of the victim's powers.

Gritting his teeth, he pushed back against the alien thing trying to drill itself into his thoughts, stabbing Enma's mind with the emperor's own weapon.

To no avail.

Dimly, he noticed that he was faltering, his mind blocks (which took weeks to build up against Hisoka) collapsing. He was slumped against the wall, almost to the point of unconsciousness from the pain of having his mind invaded.

It was like being slashed at with a white-hot poker, he decided. Over and over and over. While being soaked in one of Watari's acid baths. He felt burned all over.

That was lost in the flood of pain that came and Enma drilled relentlessly onwards.

The emperor smiled and stepped forwards when a rock flew through the air and hit his shoulder with a bone-breaking _thump_. Hisoka leapt away from the wall, already holding another.

With Enma momentarily distracted, Tsuzuki shoved the emperor's presence out of his brain and hurriedly slammed up his walls. Weak as he was though, all he could do was lean, panted on the wall as Enma swept a finger across Hisoka's area, preparing to slice the boy in half with a burst of light.

"No!"

Hisoka didn't get killed. Hisoka didn't get torn apart from Enma's blast.

Konoe did.

He lay on the ground, breathing hard, blood soaking through the clothing he usually strove to keep in perfect condition. One arm was sprawled at his side, no longer connected to the body, pointing at the doorway from which he had appeared so suddenly only a few seconds ago.

"Konoe! Chief Konoe!" Hisoka shouted, stunned. The rock dropped from his limp fingers.

Enma, only slightly disappointed at Konoe's interference, pointed a finger at Hisoka again, readying himself to attack again.

Tsuzuki pushed himself off the wall, and launched himself at Enma. He didn't care what happened to him, as long as no one else he cared for died.

The breath whooshed out of him as he landed on top of the surprised emperor. Giving Enma no time to recover, he brought up his hand and pressed his palm to the emperor's forehead.

Flames exploded from his fingers, quickly consuming Enma. Not bright, warm-coloured flames, but dark ones that seemed to glow with some sort of inner beauty. Black fire that burned gold, a blaze of darkness that consumed whatever it touched, that mesmerized whoever set eyes upon it, a flame that was so dark, it was almost too bright.

It should have been unbearably hot, but strangely, Tsuzuki couldn't feel it. He could see it, though.

See it as it devoured the god of the dead. See it through the thick smoke.

The fire licked its way up the walls, and was beginning to reach its greedy fingers for Hisoka and Konoe, when Tsuzuki called it back.

Nothing was left of the god, except for a pile of ashes. That, too, quickly disintegrated into nothing.

Enma…

…was dead.

How could that be? How could he have killed a god?

Oh no…

He killed a god.

The emperor of Meifu...

The judge of the dead…

What's going to happen now?

A chocked sob brought Tsuzuki out of his reverie, and he rushed to Konoe's side. Hisoka was leaning over the chief, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Don't worry, Konoe. We'll bring you back and get Watari to fix you up, and…"

Konoe smiled softly up at the younger shinigami. "I knew why I always liked you, Kurosaki. I've done things I'm not proud of, but I couldn't let _him _kill you. I couldn't…do you understand?

"I knew that Enma was up to something, what with asking me to get people to do all these favours. So I…followed him…I'm glad I did.

"Don't bother trying to fix me up. I'm old…I've lived longer than I would have ever hoped for. You two…you've brightened my days. You're like the sons I never had…" Konoe's eyes were glazed over, and his movements weaker.

"And you, my father," Hisoka whispered, almost inaudibly.

Konoe's eyes were closing. "I suspect Tatsumi will take over the position. He was always the better manager…" Eyes closed, he smiled up at something only he could see. "Lily…it's been so long…I always told you I'd come for you, remember?"

Tsuzuki felt tears pooling in his eyes, overflowing, streaming down his cheeks.

Konoe's mind was turned to his happiest times, as his movements stilled, and eyes fluttered one last time.

"Lily…"

The softest movement of lips, the slightest breath.

Konoe's ruined chest rose once, fell, and never moved again.

* * *

Hisoka held on to Tsuzuki, as if would never let him go.

"He…died for me…" Hsioka whispered. "His death…"

_Konoe's dead_, Tsuzuki thought hazily. _He's dead. The chief, the first person you see in the morning at the office…the chief…died…_

_Died…because of me…_

No!

_Yet another death upon my head…How many was it this time?_

Tsuzuki's clawed hands tightened on the stone ground, his thoughts before completely cast away.

No!

"No!"

Hisoka's head jerked up and he stared at the open doorway.

"Tatsumi?" he mumbled. "Watari? What are you doing here?"

"Damn! We were too late!" Watari ran into the room, only to stop abruptly before the still form of Konoe. "Wha—What happened?"

"Where's Enma-Diao? His presence was so strong; we could sense him from halfway across town." Tatsmi said, struggling to retain his composure. It wouldn't be good to break down, not at a time like this. Not when he didn't have all the facts.

"Dead."

The word passed softly through Tsuzuki's unmoving lips. He stared at the floor, kneeling, staring at his sooty, blood-caked hands.

He didn't want to live. Not then, not now.

But…

_Listen, Tsuzuki. Listen to yourself. I don't get why the rest of out division keeps on babying you when all you do is to act pathetically and looking for pity. You're so selfish…The whole world could die because of you, and all you can think of is one event…_

Hisoka was right. He _was_ selfish.

He had to live. He had to learn to live with this.

Everyone else could, so why shouldn't he?

Selfish, only pitying yourself.

Tsuzuki looked up at the shocked Tatsumi and Watari, and smiled slightly. "Enma is dead. I killed him."

Tatsumi opened his mouth to say something, but suddenly stopped and stared at the wall. "People are coming," he said, promising himself that he will get all the details out of the two shinigami later. "Let's leave."

Watari nodded and gently picked up the body of Chief Konoe.

"Did he die happily?" he asked Hisoka.

Hisoka nodded.

With that, the shinigami disappeared.

* * *

_KYOTO DAILY_

_Thursday, September 11 _

_This morning, the Kyoto Museum of Art and Culture, set to be torn down at the end of the month, was found to have suffered major structural damages in the basement._

_The damages seemed to have resulted from gunshots, or from firecrackers. Part of the northwest corner was heavily burned, and the walls were starting to crumble from the stress._

_Police have sanctioned off the museum as out of bounds, and citizens are advised to stay away from the general area as there is a possibility that the old building may collapse._

"_It's terrible," a passerby, Kato Hirasa says when asked about the museum. "First our university, burned down to the ground, and now this? It's just terrible."_

_Police suspect the damages were caused from a gang fight._

_If you have any information, please notify the police immediately._

* * *

True to his word, Tatsumi managed to get the whole story out of Hisoka and Tsuzuki.

It felt good to tell everything to a sympathetic, understanding ear, Tsuzuki thought, but even that didn't stop the nightmares.

Waking up in the middle of the night, chest heaving, breath coming in short gasps. Staring into the darkness at demons only he could see, looking into the light and seeing only blackness.

Of course, he hid this from the rest - there was no need to worry them any further. Nowadays, everyone was so busy, especially Tatsumi, the department's new chief.

No, it was better to keep this to himself. Better to wrap it up and stuff it in a corner of his mind, and put on a smile for everyone else. Forget about this.

Now, his mind blocks were higher than ever, and his mask stronger.

After his brief act of confidence in the museum, he had been slowly falling apart. But he will be strong. No one will see through him, not if he could help it.

"Hey Tsuzuki?" Tatsumi asked, looking up from the stacks of papers he was reading. Now that he was the chief, he had more work to do than ever.

"Yeah?" Turn your head just slightly, open your eyes wide, shoulders limp, but not too limp, hands open, small smile on your lips. Perfect.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this but..." Tatsumi fiddled with his pen. "You have court session due on Sunday. No matter how hard we tried, we couldn't get the Meifu court just to let you go - they keep saying you purposely murdered Enma in cold blood. Don't worry - we'll all back you up."

Grin offhandedly and talk loudly, but not too loudly. "It's fine, Tatsumi. Thanks for backing me up!"

They'll never suspect a thing.

* * *

_KYOTO DAILY_

_Saturday, September 25_

_In the past week, the backlog of cases at Kyoto Police Station seemed to have cleared, leaving the police more time to deal with day-to-day problems, much to everyone's relief._

_As you may recall, a string of murders in the Kyoto area had resulted in a mass panic. The only connecting factor of the cases seemed to be that all the victims were badly mauled, and all were of criminal backgrounds. The police were stumped._

_Luckily, however, the murders—which occurred daily late at night—seemed to have stopped completely._

_The chief of police assures people that they have not stopped looking for the killer, though, even if the murders seemed to have ended._

_Still, some people are calling this a miracle. Others call it a result of extraordinary police tactics._

_Nevertheless, everybody is relieved that the gruesome slaughter has ceased for the time being._

* * *

"Today, I stand before the court to prove that this man, Tsuzuki Asato of the Summons Department, is guilty of the murder of our lord, Enma-Diao."

The judge, a wizened old man with a thinning head of white and what looked to be a permanent scowl on his face, rapped his gavel repeatedly for silence. "Order in the court! Order in the court! Thank you. The prosecutor may begin."

The Court of Meifu was incredibly large and imposing to whomever was unlucky enough to wander in it. Today, however, it was packed from wall to wall with people. To Tsuzuki, who was slumped against the wooden podium, it seemed as if the whole of Meifu - and them some - was present. Indeed, even his shikigami insisted on watching from Gensoukai (even if they couldn't protect him, Byakko argued, the least they could do was to stand by).

Tatsumi, sitting on the bench behind Tsuzuki with Watari and Hisoka, put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Everything will be fine," he murmured.

Tsuzuki didn't care of this. He didn't care, period. This was as good a day to be punished for his actions as any, he reasoned with himself, and the court will take the necessary precautions of he were to be sentenced to death.

So long as no one else was hurt, he didn't care about himself.

On the podium across the aisle, the prosecutor, a warm-looking woman who seemed capable of a lot of love, was talking. She was the secretary of the Meifu court; one of the highest-ranking positions after the god of the dead himself.

"This man—yes, this shinigami, Tsuzuki Asato—killed our beloved emperor. And I have proof of this." The woman took sheets of paper of her table. "Here is a copy of the shinigami's last case. At around eleven o'clock during the night of September 10, both he and his partner disappeared of unknown causes. They were later found in the old Kyoto Museum, where Enma was last sighted."

The woman faced the jury. "But that is not proof of his guilt you say? Well, what if I say that our accused confessed to committing the deed right there, in the museum?" She took out a black recorder from her coat pocket. "Here it is. Tsuzuki Asato's confession of the murder of our lord, Enma-Diao."

Pressing the button, the woman fiddled with the knobs until Tsuzuki's words could be heard by everyone in the court.

"…_Dead. Enma is dead. I killed him."_

However soft and indistinct, the voice that came from the speaker was inarguably Tsuzuki's.

Behind the accused, Tatsumi silently bristled at the sound of Tsuzuki's recorded words. How did that secretary get her hands on that?

But he knew. Enma had eyes and ears everywhere; almost nothing can be hidden from him. Even dead, he continually haunts the purple-eyed shinigami. One of Enma's hidden seekers must have caught that on tape just after Konoe's death.

Tatsumi fought to keep his face straight as the woman proceeded to tell the most false, inconsistent, hole-filled story he had ever heard. It almost seemed as if she was lacking of the necessary facts to make a plausible story of Enma's death and Tsuzuki's guilt.

That was good. Once it was Tsuzuki's turn, he'll defend himself, and give everyone the truth of what happened.

Right?

The woman was finishing up now, her face now flushed and her voice strong and ringing. "As you all know, Tsuzuki has threatened all of Meifu not just once, but twice, three times! All the time, he has gotten away with nothing but a mild slap on the wrist for his crimes. Now, he has killed the emperor—our beloved lord Enma. Will you let him get away a fourth time? Will you let the guilty continue to live happily? No! This is Meifu, and it is our responsibility to give judgment, to be fair! We do not tolerate cold-blooded killers, nor of jealous murderers. We do not accept vandals and people of destruction. We punish the sinners and protect the innocent, and we can not, at all costs, let this go. Let the guilty be punished accordingly!"

The last word hung into the air for a moment as the woman stepped down from the podium. The judge nodded.

"Now, what does the accused have to say to that?" the man drawled. "Tsuzuki Asato, how do you plead?" He held the gavel just above his table, as if ready to condemn Tsuzuki any moment.

There was a long pause as Tsuzuki stared blankly ahead.

_What's he doing?_ Watari thought. _This is his chance to blow the story right open!_

Similar murmurs started throughout the court as the silence stretched on.

Tsuzuki was in a haze. _I do not wish to live, and this is as good a way to die as any…_he thought to himself, lips tightly sealed. _And the prosecutor is right—I am a murderer…I do not belong here…_

The judge's lips tightened. "Do you wish to remain silent?" he asked. "This is your last chance to defend yourself. If you continue to stay quiet, I fear that you will be considered guilty."

More silence.

_But then it would hurt Hisoka and Tatsumi and Watari so much if I died._ Tsuzuki thought struggling with his two conflicting sides.

"You have five seconds, Tsuzuki. This is your last chance."

_But…_

_But…_

Behind him, Tsuzuki could hear a half-muffled, strangled cry.

"Four…"

_Get up, Tsuzuki! Defend yourself already! What is he doing?..._

Automatically, Tsuzuki turned to face whoever made that noise, wanting to comfort him. For a split second, his eyes locked onto Hisoka's—wide, unbelieving, and staring desperately at Tsuzuki as if trying to convince his something.

Tsuzuki turned around to face the judge once more.

"Three…"

"_Don't leave me ever," Hisoka mumbled against the soaked fabric of Tsuzuki's trench coat. "I don't care what happens—I don't want you to go."_

_Hisoka came so far for him…_

"_Then take me with you. Take me to that place in your mind…"_

"_As long as we're together…"_

_Hisoka's hurt face, understanding and pained beyond belief, looking up at him. Knowing him. Accepting him._

It was that face which decided it for Tsuzuki.

"Two…"

He didn't want to hurt people any more.

"On—"

"I plead innocent."

The last word jerked awkwardly past lips which weren't used to stating such things. Tsuzuki stared up at the judge, relieved that he had finally made the decision, the jump.

The judge's surprised lips were pursed, as if he hadn't expected the shinigami to say this.

"I, Tsuzuki Asato, plead innocent to my crimes."

Behind him, the shinigami were relieved for a completely separate reason. But he wasn't out of the forest yet.

Tsuzuki turned to the stupefied audience. He spoke in a voice both loud and clear.

"Yes, I killed the emperor. I killed him with my own bare hands, but not for the reasons you think."

He paused, thinking over his words.

"There are events the secretary over there didn't think to mention. There are things that she knows nothing about. I suppose I'll have to tell you about all of that, right?" Tsuzuki smiled bitterly, then his smile faded.

"Chief Konoe, for example. You know of him. The chief of the Summons's Department. Enma killed him."

There was a dead silence in the room, as the shocked jury leaned forwards in their seats to hear Tsuzuki's words.

"Dead. Killed by Enma. How did you think he died?" Tsuzuki's eyes were hard. "Enma killed, and would have continued killing, if he were not have been stopped!"

"Are you excusing yourself of your crimes?" the judge asked testily.

Tsuzuki shook his head. "No, your honour. I am merely giving the truth for these people to judge for themselves. Enma was a murderer, though most of you wouldn't know that. He tried to kill Hisoka, he tried to kill me. He _had_ killed me. He would have killed hundreds of people in the world, if left to himself.

"I'm part demon. I betcha didn't know that either, huh?" Tsuzuki smiled, now finally baring his fangs for the world to see. "I have demon blood in my veins, have powers too. Enma wanted that power to kill of humans, so he killed me the first time. Too bad for him I came back." Tsuzuki closed his mouth. "Go, ask some of the guards around here. They know Enma was expecting me, they know Enma wanted me to meet him, to advantage of my powers."

Hisoka stared at Tsuzuki. He didn't know this man…this man who had as many different faces of himself as the leaves on a willow tree. This purple-eyed shinigami who was so confident, with emotions that turn on the drop of a dime. He was deadly.

Tsuzuki continued. "The Enma you knew wasn't the real Enma. The emperor wasn't perfect—he was flawed, he was hurt, he built an ice cage around his heart to protect himself from his very job. In the end, that got the better of him, and he broke. I'm not excusing myself, or belittling my crimes. I murdered him, I killed him with my own two hands. But I don't regret that. If I could go back and change what I did, I wouldn't. Ever."

Tsuzuki spread his arms wide.

"This is the truth, what I'm saying. Decide yourself what you want, I only hope you'll choose to face the truth."

He bowed his head, and stepped down. Tsuzuki slumped against his podium, he felt as if the energy had been drained out of him.

He could only hope, and watch.

The judge scowled at this new development. "The jury will now take a vote. Shall we sentence Asato Tsuzuki to the proper punishment for his crimes, or should we pardon him due to particular…situations? All who count him guilty, raise your hands."

Silence. No one raised their hands. No one even dared to breath. Necks were craned to see what neighbors voted.

The secretary's eyebrows were drawn in anger.

"Well, then...all who count him as innocent, raise your hands."

Again, no one moved. Watari trembled in anger. If only he could vote! But, no. He, Tatsumi, Hisoka, or any of the others who would readily stand up for Tsuzuki weren't part of the jury.

Smiling, the judge rapped his gavel, once. "Then the decision falls on me. I vote..."

"I vote for Tsuzuki."

All heads swiveled to find the speaker.

Hisoka stood up straighter, green eyes staring ahead and gleaming with determination.

"He has done nothing wrong, he had only been protecting the people he cares for. Therefore, I vote for him."

Tatsumi and Watari stood up beside him.

"I agree."

"We may not be part of the jury, but our opinion matters as well!"

Somewhere in the middle of the audience, others began stepping up, as well as some of the jury.

A multitude of voices rose up for the high ceiling.

"It's not Tsuzuki's fault!" Wakaba shouted, a seemingly reluctant Terazuma beside her.

"He shouldn't be sentenced-"

"He's _Tsuzuki_. He wouldn't hurt anyone without a reason!"

"Let him go."

"There's no need!"

"He's-"

"Innocent!"

Finally, not able to stand the ruckus anymore, the judge banged his gavel against his stand. "Silence!" he roared. Clearly not happy, he continued, "It seems that there has been a change of votes. Evidently, the majority of votes go in favour of the accused, therefore he is to be pardoned. I now conclude this case." He rapped the gavel on the table once more.

Faint with relief, Tsuzuki collapsed, only to be caught just in time by Hisoka.

* * *

Chief Konoe's funeral was held on the same day as the god of the dead's. Only, for the latter, it was more of a memorial than a funeral, with almost all of Meifu attending.

In contrast, Konoe's was smaller and more modest, with barely thirty people present. Good. Konoe would have preferred it that way.

Tsuzuki was hurrying back to the office, wiping dried tears off his cheeks when he suddenly turned and asked Tatsumi, "Hey...where's Hisoka?"

Tatsumi shrugged and Watari answered for him. "I think he went for a walk in the forest. That way, I think." Watari pointed to a small side path that led away from the funeral.

"Okay, thanks! I catch up with you two later."

Tsuzumi ran off into the forest, polished black shoes thumping against the packed dirt. Finally, he saw a figure wearing a black suit on the path in front of him.

"Hey, Hisoka!"

Hisoka looked at Tsuzuki for a moment, then turned to face the winding path before him once again.

"Hisoka - why so glum?" Tsuzuki prodded the younger shinigami's shoulder.

As if realizing he wasn't going to leave any time soon, Hisoka raised his head and said, "We never caught Muraki. He must have left the museum the second you broke out of the chains."

"Yeah, so? That's a problem for another day, we'll handle those later. Why waste time moping over these kinds of things?"

Now Hisoka looked him in the eyes. "Konoe is dead, Tsuzuki."

"Yes. He died honourably, and chose his own death. He had a choice, Hisoka, and he chose to do what he wanted."

"But he died because of _me_!"

"Not because of you, Hisoka," Tsuzuki said softly. _He died because of me_. "None of this is your fault...Enma was the one who killed him. He wanted to die then. Be sad, but be thankful. He wouldn't have wanted you to be like this."

Speaking of Enma, Tsuzuki's wondered briefly how the Count was doing. He seemed quite strange yesterday during yet another one of his tea parties.

* * *

_Tsuzuki searched the crowd nervously. "Do you see the Count?" he murmured anxiously to Hisoka._

"_No," Hisoka replied. "But tell me if you do, I want to ask him some things." Tsuzuki groaned. Asking the Count some things was definitely _not_ high up on his to-do list._

"_Oh wait—I see him!" Hisoka whispered, and began heading over to the Count. _

_For a moment, Tsuzuki stared longingly back at the drinks and refreshments table, laden high with all sorts of sweets. Then he looked at Hisoka's back, and threaded through the crowd for him._

"_My dear Tsuzuki!" the Count cried, rushing forwards to put Tsuzuki in an awkward invisible bear hug which forced him to staggar back a few steps. For a perverted, invisible man, the Count sure was heavy._

_Hisoka calmly stood aside and watched the two, until he decided they had enough time to greet each other. He tugged on the Count's glove to catch his attention._

"_Hey…Count?" he asked, as the aforementioned man glanced at him. Tsuzuki took the opportunity to wrench himself from the Count's grasp. "Are you going to replace Enma as the god of the dead?"_

_It was unnerving to not be able to see his face to see what kind of expression lay there. Only the nervous twitching and twisting of the Count's fingers hinted to what lay below that mask._

"_Well…No."_

"_What?" Tsuzuki cried from his position behind Hisoka. _

_Hisoka was likewise stunned. "Why? It's not like the council wouldn't welcome you to the title—you've got more claim to it than anyone else in Meifu."_

_The Count shook his head. "No. Judging people isn't my thing…my little brother was always the better one at doing that. I have enough trouble watching the candles here go out—how will I ever send someone to Hell? Can you imagine me as the god of the dead?"_

_The two shinigami shook their heads._

"_Anyway, you, my dear Tsuzuki, has as much claim to the title as any. As Meifu's oldest shinigami, you have a lot of say around here. Why don't you?"_

_Tsuzuki was shaking his head furiously before the Count even finished. "No way," he said quickly. "If you can't stand it, I could never. Hisoka here'd be better with the responsibility than I will, and Tatsumi can cope better."_

_The Count sighed. "See? That's why the Court of Meifu is handling Enma's responsibilities as a team for now, at least until they find a suitable replacement. We can't force anyone to be a god."_

"_No, we can't," Hisoka agreed._

_The Count suddenly glanced at the refreshments table. "Now's not the time for such dull conversation!" he cried. "this is a tea party, and you two are my guests! Shall I have Watson serve you some tea?"_

_Hisoka sighed quietly, and followed the eager Tsuzuki to the table._

* * *

"He wouldn't have wanted _you_ like this either, Tsuzuki." Hisoka placed large, expressive green eyes on his friend's surprised face. "Empath here, remember?" he tapped the side of his head, but made no move to smile.

Tsuzuki chuckled and ran a hand over unruly black hair. "Yeah, we're partners in angst. But I've decided to put the past behind us. What happened happened, and I can't change that. I can only make the future better." If his trial at court had shown him something, it was that he was wanted here. _He_, was loved. And that's put everything else in perspective.

"...that's so cheesy."

Now both of them chuckled a bit, remembering the last time he said that, seemingly lifetimes ago.

_'Cause you're my partner, that's why._

The two of them, the tall charismatic not-quite human and the shorter teenage shinigami walked down the path side by side, recounting old memories together.

Maybe broken locks can't be fixed, nor lost keys replaced, but the two wouldn't change their friendship for the world.

The past is the past.

And the future has yet to come.

* * *

Epilogue:

"Tsuzuki!" Tatsumi shouted when Tsuzuki and Hisoka returned. He waved a plastic bag filled with ruined papers in Tsuzuki's face.

"Uh oh..."

* * *

**So...that's it for this story. I'm thinking of putting up a nice, short, light oneshot after all this long violent stuff.**

**Actually, this story would have been a whole lot more different. And a whole lot _longer_. I had to take out a lot so that the plot would make sense. Like, about two pages worth of part two and another page from this chapter. T.T I'm kind of fond of those parts, though so maybe I might post them up. Or send them to people who want to read them. Or maybe not. -shrugs-**

**Thanks go to everyone who's read and/or reviewed this - you guys make my day! =)**


	9. Broken Lock & Lost Key: Outtakes

**So, here are the promised outtakes! In (dubious) chronological order...****

* * *

**

**1. This was originally how part 2 was going to end. I took it out, though, because it didn't really fit in with the plot as well (and cause I liked the other idea more :P) Some of these parts were recycled in the rewriting, though...(it takes place just after Tsuzuki's dream)**

Tsuzuki bolted up, chest heaving, breath gasping, silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

_It was just a dream_, he thought, relieved. _But it felt so…real…_

He must have fallen asleep without changing, he realized, looking down at his rumpled dress shirt and wrinkled pants. He also realized something else.

"Hisoka! Get up! There's a fire!"

Flames licked up the walls, devouring the bed. Not bright, warm-coloured flames, but dark ones that seemed to glow with some sort of inner beauty. Black fire that burned gold, a blaze of darkness that consumed whatever it touched, that mesmerized whoever set eyes upon it, a flame that was so dark, it was almost too bright.

It should have been unbearably hot, but strangely, Tsuzuki couldn't feel it. He could see it, though.

Hisoka stumbled from the smoke, coughing. "What's this?" he said hoarsely.

Tsuzuki darted into the washroom, not looking at all at the mirror, and grabbed the wash basin beside the sink he filled it with water as quickly as he could, and dumped the whole lot on the fire. The flames burned hotter.

"Tsuzuki!" Hisoka shouted, "This stuff is your doing. Call it back!"

How? But afraid of burning down the whole inn, Tsuzuki closed his eyes. Maybe this works the same as ofuda…he tried to pull the fire back into himself, like sucking in water.

He cautiously opened his eyes.

The whole room stank of smoke. The bed was practically gone, with only a blackened metal frame left among the cinders. Burn streaks ran up and down the walls, and everything was ashy. But at least there wasn't any of the strange fire left.

Angry red welts, already starting to fade, showed on Hisoka's skin, and Tsuzuki felt a pang of guilt. If he had woken up even a few minutes later…

He turned away to hide his face from Hisoka, and opened the single window in hopes that it'll clear the smoke smell out faster.

Silent, Hisoka went into the bathroom and started washing his hands, getting the soot off. Finally, he strode out. Tsuzuki was trying to salvage what he could from the ashes. From the looks of it, he wasn't having much luck. The only thing that seemed to have relatively survived the fire was Tsuzuki's trench coat, which was practically impossible to destroy.

Hisoka walked right up to Tsuzuki and shoved him, hard. "You idiot!" he snapped. "Why'd you lose control like that?"

Tsuzuki looked at the ground, and for a second, Hisoka felt guilty for shouting at him. That thought, however, was soon lost in the flood of anger that followed.

He opened his mouth to say more, when footsteps sounded outside the door.

"Hello? Are you two having any trouble up here?" the tired voice of the owner of the inn said, knocking on the door.

There was a click as the door was unlocked, and the owner walked into the room.

-pagebreak-

He didn't know what possessed him to walk through the hallways of the inn.

He was in his late forties, and was already well into mid-life crisis. His joints pained him during the day, and insomnia kept him up at night. He was stooped and heavily-built, with days-old stubble growing on his chin.

Once, he had been a proud man, owning a well-kept inn that had been passed-down through his family. Once, he was young and fit and bright and knew how to make good business. Now, he had fallen upon hard times. Now, his inn was practically unknown. Now, he was just another strange, eccentric older man who happened to own a run-down inn.

But these two new visitors...they were new.

They were young, they were kind, and they were _different_ in ways he couldn't quite explain. After being by himself all this time, it's little wonder that they fascinated him.

Maybe that was why he was walking through these hallways, gazing up at the familiar wallpaper, setting his feet upon a route he knew well enough that he could probably find his way around in his sleep.

Suddenly, he sniffed the air. Was that...smoke he could smell? Yes, yes, that was definitely smoke.

It was coming from the door of the room he gave the two visitors. He rushed for the door, forgetting all about his aching joints. Before opening it, however, he paused. Should he give the two their privacy? But what if they were in real trouble?

The shouting that sounded from behind the door made up his mind.

Quickly, he grabbed one of the master keys from his belt and opened the door, pushing his way inside.

"Are you two-" he stopped. The room looked like a bomb had been detonated within it.

The previously off-white walls were now black, and there was no trace of any furniture. The air was heavy with smoke.

And the two visitors have disappeared.

He shook his head. He must have just been imagining the voices, and it sure was a good thing they weren't in here. He was about to leave and tally up the damages from his rapidly-shrinking pool of funds when he saw a card on the ground beside a stack of bills.

He picked up the money first, then the cheap paper. He held the card carefully, then turned it over and over before finally reading the neat-if hurried-handwriting.

_Sorry about the damages._

_Hope this is enough to pay for everything._

That was all - no names, no signatures, no anything. Just a card and money.

Quickly, he counted the money. Then recounted. This couldn't be right - there was almost double the amount of money here than he needed. They must have made a mistake.

But there wasn't anyone here to talk to, to give the money back.

Bushy eyebrows raised, he shook his head and left the room, tucking the money into a shirt pocket. He sent a silent _thank you_ to his visitors-whoever they were.

Had he seem the two shimmering forms perched outside the window, he may have thought differently.

-pagebreak-

Tsuzuki and Hisoka reappeared behind a building, scaring off nothing but a few mice.

One his feet touched the ground, Hisoka rounded on Tsuzuki. "You idiot!" he hissed.

"What?" Tsuzuki's face was surprised. "It wasn't my fault! I mean, I sorry about all the damage, but we paid that guy back didn't we? With-"

"With _my_ money," Hisoka finished for him, eyes blazing. "See? That's exactly what I mean."

"What do you mean?" Tsuzuki asked, quizzical look on his face.

"_My_ money. You use my money to fix _your_ problems." Hisoka snapped in his partner's face. "Like everything you do. You don't fix your problems; you get everyone else to do it for you."

Tsuzuki stumbled back, as if Hisoka had struck him. Actually, it would be better if Hisoka had hit him, because that was easier to deal with than _this_. This...justified anger, this...honesty. He could tell that Hisoka was telling the truth.

Hisoka continued. "You have all this power at you disposal, but you never use it. Or, if you do, you destroy things with it. Like how you destroyed the library _again_ because of a fight with Terazuma? Or today? You're not responsible at all, Tsuzuki!" Every word stabbed Tsuzuki in the heart like a dagger. Even worse, he knew they were true. He was weak because he refused to use what was given to him, he was irresponsible, sometimes even fatally so. "Why didn't you figure out how to control yourself? Instead, you use all your time and money on sweets!"

Somewhere deep inside Hisoka, he knew he was being unfair. But he didn't care. He wanted Tsuzuki to know what he-what everybody-had to put up with every day. Tsuzuki's little quirks have been building up, slowly simmering under pressure inside him for so long, he wanted to let it all out. Now.

Tsuzuki had his back to the building wall. "Hisoka," he whispered, so softly you would have thought it was just a passing wind. "Do you regret saving me from Touda's fire?"

Now it was Hisoka's turn to look taken aback. "No, of course not!" He doesn't want Tsuzuki to _kill_ himself, for goodness sake. He just wanted Tsuzuki to improve himself, something he seemed to stubbornely refuse to do no matter what.

And, maybe, just maybe, Hisoka was just the _tiniest_ bit jealous. Here he was, almost the youngest in the Division, practically useless in a fight, partnered with _Tsuzuki_. A shinigami so powerful that even Enma wanted him for himself.

And Tsuzuki doesn't even know it! Or if he does, he does not do anything about it. He just lets all the power-all that potential, lie there, wasting away. Hisoka wanted power, but has little. Tsuzuki has so much power it's frightening, but never uses it.

How should he feel?

Now, Tsuzuki reminded him of a beaten, stray dog, almost cowering against the wall from Hisoka.

See? This is another example of how Tsuzuki is not responsible, no worthy of his own power. He needs to _become_ better, and how will he do that if he doesn't know how he is at fault?

"But...I was only trying to help, Hisoka," Tsuzuki said. "Maybe, if you're worried about working together, we could help each other, and teach and-"

"I don't need your help!" Hisoka shouted hotly, anger rising back, ten times hotter than before. "You guys treat me like a baby! What? Am I not deserving of being treated an equal?"

Tsuzuki blinked, realizing he had hit a sore spot. "Of course you are, Hisoka! It's just that you're a little younger than most."

Hisoka stepped right up to Tsuzuki hating the fact that he was almost a full head shorter than his partner. "Just because I'm a few years younger-so you don't trust me? They trust _you_, the slacker, but not me? I can work just as well as any of you! You'll see...I bet I can finish the whole case without you!"

Tsuzuki narrowed his eyes, a small flame of anger flashing behind his eyes. "What do you mean, you can finish the whole case by yourself without the _slacker_?" The slacker in question bared his fangs, which seemed to look even longer and sharper than usual. Claws suddenly glinted at the tips of his fingers. There's a reason why shinigami are given partners, you know. I may be lazy, but I do do work. Remember Nagasaki, with the vampires? Where will you be without a partner?" Tsuzuki realized that he was almost shouting, and worked to calm himself down.

But really. Hisoka must be a first-class baka to not realize the importance of working in pairs. To even suggest the idea-

Hisoka's temper flared. "Yeah, maybe I'd be dead by now. But remember, it was you who lead Muraki to us in the first place!" Spinning around, he stalked off, leaving Tsuzuki feeling as if he'd just been slapped.

Tsuzuki stood there in the alley, staring at the place where Hisoka had been standing a moment ago, shouting at him.

He'd...he'd never realized that Hisoka felt that badly working with him. Every word that had been spoken, was spoken with conviction and belief and anger, if without pity. Every word was true.

Tsuzuki knew that now.

Why did he have to go and bring up Muraki? Why did he have to bring up Hisoka's age? Why did he have to shout?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Hisoka definitely wouldn't want to be his partner now.

Tsuzuki buried his face in his palms.

Who would want him? Who wants to be with a stupid, lazy, unthinking, uncontrollable, idiot who brings sadistic murderers to their partner's doorsteps?

After Kyoto, he thought...he thought that...maybe, maybe this one time, someone might actually want him with them.

But who would? Most certainly not Hisoka, who he had unknowingly hurt so badly.

Hisoka's probably sending in a formal request to Konoe right now, and Tsuzuki wouldn't blame him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

_Why?_

-pagebreak-

Hisoka sat on the ground just outside the inn. The concrete was warm from the sun and smooth from years of wear and tear.

He covered his face with his hands, ignoring the stares and questions of passing people.

What just happened?

He remembered, in a haze, of yelling at Tsuzuki and being so angry that the edges of his vision had been tinged with red. Shouting and blaming Tsuzuki for some petty reason that he couldn't quite recall right now.

What happened? What's happening?

Hisoka remembered the fire, at being annoyed that Tsuzuki couldn't control his powers and that someday, that could end up being the end of all of them. He lent his money-everything he had in his wallet (he didn't trust banks)-so that they could pay off the owner.

And then what?

Something happened - something made him snap. It was an incredible show of lack of self-control, and confusion. Maybe it was some kind of survival instinct; get insulted, bite back with ten times the force. And, unfortunately, the victim happened to be Tsuzuki.

Of course, none of that justified his anger. Sure, he was pretty irritated with Tsuzuki, and had been for a while. But so what? He needed to learn to deal. It didn't mean he had to lose everything and all logical thought and just _scream_ at his emotionally-unstable partner.

Oh, no. Just think of how Tsuzuki must feel right now. _He_ felt bad saying all those things, so just how badly was Tsuzuki hurt, then? Tsuzuki had broken just from his own self-hatred, what will he do when someone close to him actively participates in Tsuzuki's guilt problem?

No, no, no.

How could he had been so stupid? Had he been thinking?

Of course not. Otherwise, none of this would have happened.

What did happen? He didn't know. He wasn't even completely sure that it was actually _him_ who said all of that.

But whatever happened, he needed to be with Tsuzuki. To apologize, to defend, to comfort, he wasn't exactly sure.

All he knew was that he made a huge mistake and he needed to get back. Now.

Hisoka jumped up, and made his way back to the alleyway where he had seen Tsuzuki last.

He never made it there.

* * *

**2. So that was the first major part. Another one was a little section in part three (or maybe four…) where I had Muraki get killed. Later on, I scrapped the idea and had Enma die instead ^^**

"Why do you...follow him?" Tsuzuki asked, gasping a little. His current position did not allow him for long conversations.

"Because, we have a deal," Muraki replied, serious for once. "Once his ideals are fulfilled, I will keep my life. And I will have _you_, my dear Tsuzuki." He glanced at Enma, who remained as unreadable as ever. "The lord...his plan is good. He would have been able to get to you without me. But I make your life easier, do I not, my lord?" Muraki smiled carefully. It was easy to see who had the upper hand here. "And, after all, it is only expected that the doll obey its master, no?"

Tsuzuki barely stifled a small squeak of shock. Muraki stared at him now. "What? You thought I was a natural creature? No, my lord has planned and shaped me from birth. It was he who commanded my for all these years, and he who-"

"Enough."

Muraki fell silent immediately, and only now did Enma turn to glance at him.

"Yes, Kazutaka here is a very loyal servant," Enma said quietly. "Although his methods do leave something to be desired. He was my first, and he was my best. Take note of this, Tsuzuki, and hope that you may sometime earn a reward for your efforts to please me."

Muraki smirked at Tsuzuki.

Enma whirled around, and, as quick as a snake, swept an extended finger across his general area. Muraki was sliced in half at the torso, yet another victim from Enma's power.

Tsuzuki stared in horror at the lifeless body of his enemy. Muraki's dark red, almost black, blood-enriched with the lives of dozens of innocent souls-pooled around his feet as the blood that splattered against the walls started to drip down, ever so slowly. It was as if his memory was taunting him. _To kill, so easily, so coldly..._

Enma turned to still shell-shocked Tsuzuki. "Hope that you can serve me better."

He swept out of the room.

* * *

**3. This was actually more of a short concept, rather than an actual taken-out-of-the-story section. But still, it would have been included if it had found a way to connect with the rest of the story.**

Tsuzuki strained against the chains that bound him, growling between clenched teeth in frustration. Above him, Muraki laughed.

"You can't break out," he smirked. "Those cuffs are special—very special. Made by your dear friend Watari, in fact - constructed specially for you."

Tsuzuki felt his mouth fall open. Watari? No, it couldn't be…

Watari would never…

Muraki smiled again. "Are you so sure about that?" he asked, reading Tsuzuki's emotions.

* * *

**4. Okay, this is the last thing (-readers all sigh in relief-) Oriya was supposed to have a much larger role, but I never actually got around to writing farther than this…**

"Open up! We know you're there, Oriya, come out!"

Oriya rose from his table groggily (had he fallen asleep…?), and went to the door, only pausing to stare dejectedly at the empty seat where Muraki had been only a short while before. Why was he always the one left behind to deal with these things?

He slowly opened the door, and was almost knocked over by the whirlwind that was Watari and Tatsumi.

"Muraki!" Watari demanded, pinning him to the wall. "Where is he?"

"I have no idea," Oriya answered calmly.

"Was he here? Today?" Tatsumi asked, gazing around the room.

"He was. He left, though."

"Why?" Watari said, pressing harder.

Oriya shrugged. "How am I supposed to know? He never tells me anything."

Tatsumi was starting for the door. "Come on, Watari. It's obvious there's nothing to be found around here. Let's go." Watari dropped Oriya and got up as well, scowling the whole time.

"Wait."

Tatsumi and Watari turned around.

"I want to come with you," Oriya said.

"I'm sorry, but you probably can't—" Tatsumi started, but Oriya interrupted him.

"I don't want to left behind again," he snapped, dark eyes blazing. "I want to know what the heck Muraki's been up to!"

The two glanced at each other, then Watari nodded reluctantly. "Fine. Come with us. The more, the merrier, right?"

* * *

**So, that's it. Probably quite crappy, but meh. They're called outtakes for a reason, right?**

**Hope you enjoyed them!**


	10. Hisoka's Guide to Surviving the Dos

**Two updates in one day...you lucky ducks ^^**

**This is just a silly, random, and hopefully amusing piece of writing (if you can call it that...)**

* * *

Hisoka's Guide on How to Survive the Department of Summons'

1. Be at work at nine o'clock sharp. Not earlier, and definitely _never_ later.

2. Keep all food brought from home either in a hidden locked drawer, or in your stomach. Tsuzuki has a nose on him like a dog…

3. Ignore any loud bangs, cracks, yells, and crashes coming from the laboratory on the third floor.

4. Do not, under any circumstances, touch the coffee in the break room, even and especially if Watari seems particularly cheerful that day.

5. Even if it is stated _quite_ clearly on the monthly bills that office materials WILL be supplied by the Department, you are still expected to bring your own pens, inks, papers, etc. Failure to do so will result in a long lecture on the preservation of money and the state of Department debt, and quite possibly a cut in your pay check.

6. Don't listen to Tatsumi's reluctant suggestions and search the supply closets for a spare pen. There is a reason why those closets are nicknamed the 'Bottomless Junk Heap.' Abandon all hope of finding anything remotely usable.

7. If all fails, go to Watari and ask. Dodge questions about the possibility of you 'helping' him as a guinea pig.

8. If you see any stick men drawn with the skill of a five-year-old walking around on the floor, LEAVE THEM ALONE. Although seemingly harmless, they bite painfully.

9. If your partner suddenly sprouts black wings and gains a red glow in their eyes, step away slowly, and have an ofuda on hand in case things get out of control. Be prepared to help pay for extensive building damages.

10. The library is a quiet, out of the way place perfect for visiting throughout the day. Use it.

* * *

Extra: Dictionary of Terms, by Tsuzuki and Watari

[ ] – Tsuzuki's side notes

( ) – Watari's side notes

Department of Summons' – a department within the Ministry of Hades, specializing in finding and bringing in rouge souls. Well known for its lack of money [not that I had any part in it…-looks up and whistles innocently-]

003 – One of Watari's companion birds, an owl. [As to where he got it from, how should I know?]

Apple pie – a pastry with apple filling; a delicious food, though for some strange reason, Hisoka hates it. Must be because of that time when…Ouch! Hisoka, stop that! What do you _mean_ that's not supposed to be in there?

Hisoka – a sixteen-year-old shinigami with blonde hair and green eyes. Responsible and loyal, but has a mean punch on him.

Tatsumi – a money-pinching guy, has glasses and likes to wear brown for some reason. Particularly enjoys cutting peoples' pay checks and budgets.

Chief Konoe – an old dude who's the chief of the Summons' Department, likes souvenirs. He is, uh…oh, screw this. Tsuzuki should be writing this, not me! Go ask him.

Library – one of the few quiet places in the building, this place had been destroyed twice - the first by a possessed Tsuzuki, and the second from a joint effort of Tsuzuki and Terazuma. Still undergoing construction. (You better not mess it up this time, Tsuzuki) [Okay, okay, I won't! Yeesh!]

Shikigami – guardian spirits currently residing in the virtual world of Gensoukai. Come in a variety of animal battle forms, but usually lives in a human-ish-looking form in their world.

Shinigami – badly-paid civil servants who find and retrieve rouge spirits from the human world. Did I mention they were badly-paid? [Maybe they'll work better with a few pay check raises, Tatsumi. Hinthint.]

Computers – messed-up machines who are continuously breaking down just before you are about to save an important document. [Maybe you should upgrade them, Watari.] (Shut up.)

Tea – infinitely preferable to coffee. You don't need to know why, just know this.

Tsuzuki – a dessert-hogging shinigami with the appetite of ten people. Where does he put it all?

Watari – a mad-scientis shinigami. Enjoys disrupting people. Is attempting to make a sex-change potion. Still. [After twenty-some years, you'd think he'd…] (Shut up.)

Restraint – uh…what?

Dictionary of Terms – A sub-section in Hisoka's Guide to Surviving the Department of Summons'. Totally useless and only meant to be read by the most desperate of bored people. And…yeah. We think that's all.

Yeah.

* * *

**And yes, my obsession with coffee has not ended! ;)**


	11. Denial

**The characters in this oneshot aren't named, but you can probably guess who they are already ^^**

* * *

Everyone knew about it, had at least some semblance of sub-conscious understanding of it since day one.

Everyone, that is, except _them_.

And in the end, it was only _they_ who mattered in this equation, wasn't it?

Day one.

Since day one, _they_ took one look at each other and decided that the mutual feeling they had running around in the backs of their minds was hate. Yeah. They definitely hated each other. Or at least that was what they told themselves.

So every time they've come face to face, they would turn up their noses, not realizing that the strange, unhappy emotion was not caused by the other, but by the fact that they were doing the exact opposite their hearts longed to do.

To everyone else—to all the little zeros and tens and twos in the equation—this behaviour was all incredibly frustrating. When it wasn't driving up your blood pressure with stress, that is. Downright agonising, in fact.

You'd think they had stones for eyes and bricks for brains. They've knocked heads with each other more than enough for that to have happened.

But utter a word and you'd get derisive snorts if you were lucky, angry half-muttered denials if you were unlucky, and icy glares and a whack on the head if you were _really_ unlucky.

Really.

Whose crap was it that opposites attracted? They were so much the same it was scary. Not that _they _realized.

Maybe _that_ was why the debts were so high this year.

Hmm.

Maybe, down the road, they'd realize something. Maybe they would actually knock some sense into each other.

Or maybe we'd just have to put up with it until the end of time.

Huh.

Everyone knew about it.

They just weren't everyone.

* * *

**...that was interesting...and confusing...and fun to write :)**

**Unfortunately, there probably won't be many updates for the next little while. My muses (for this fandom, anyway) seemed to have all ran away...**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed this!**


	12. Shadows in the Fire

**Sorry for the long delay, and then coming back with this crap X(**

**On another note, today was the first day of school! Who else has a scary math teacher?**

* * *

Suzaku loved fire.

Who doesn't know that?

She loved the colours, the flickering light, the smoky smell it gives off when it's burning something. She loved the heat, loved the fierceness, loved the flaring, uneven brightness…

The other shikigami could keep their water and rocks and little wisps of wind. Suzaku loved fire.

Has. Is. Will always.

But now, she felt that there was something…missing. Whenever she stared at the flames, she couldn't help but feel there was something…_wrong_ about it.

Suzaku couldn't put a finger on what exactly that was, and the frustration was driving her crazy.

She gazed into the blazing fireplace, a golden glow flickering across sullen features. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she racked her mind for a clue of what was wrong with her.

Her mind ached with this unfamiliar exercise. Even as a guardian of the south, her existance was not one filled with the pondering of difficult questions. She wasn't Rikugou! Her actions mainly come in two stages: see situation, fix situation (preferably with fire and/or violence). She couldn't waste precious time musing over decisions.

But this - her issue with fire - was a big problem.

She was a fire shikigami for goodness sake! She should live for the utter perfection of something burning.

But that was it. Her fire _wasn't _perfect. Not anymore.

Frowning, Suzaku leaned closer to the fire, relishing its warmth.

This fire…was too _bright_, she decided finally. It should be darker…subtler…like a black shadow creeping up to its victims. It should be larger and hotter, far hotter. It should be silent and dark, hot enough to melt metal and yet seem almost soft. It should—

Suzaku stomped out that particular train of thought quickly, realizing what kind of fire she was describing. Or, rather, _whose_.

But now she found that she _liked _that snake's flames. Liked them better than her own.

Touda, that dark serpent. That evil, out-of-control shikigami. How could she even _think_ about preferring anything of his? He was a mass murderer, he tried to kill _Tsuzuki_. He should be imprisoned in that cell of his for the rest of eternity.

And his black fire? Who would favour black hell fire above her beautiful, bright, flickering phoenix flames? He killed with that fire, killed hundreds. Why, she should get her sword and go out there and chop him to bits right now, just for that. Of course, he never fought back when she did that, but that snake still made a good target for her anger.

Hmm…wonder why he never fought back? He always either ran away (that spineless coward), or dodged all her blows, never raising a finger to touch her. Probably because he knew that the moment he tried, she'd chop his hand off. That must be it.

And apart from their daily swordfight (well, okay…_her_ daily swordfight), she barely saw him at all. Actually, no shikigami saw him often. He's just that kind of shiki.

How lonely that must be! Suzaku shuddered. That must be terrible, living everyday all alone, with no one to care for, and—

She stopped herself again. Was she actually starting to _pity_ that criminal?

Of course not. She was just nice, that's all. She'd do that for anyone.

Suzaku blinked, then shook her head. For a moment, she saw an image of a huge, sinuous serpent, dancing through the fireplace.

Gah. She was thinking too much about that snake.

Think about something else! she commanded herself. Focus on another person.

Like…Tsuzuki. And his partner…Hisoka, was it?

Suzaku stifled a girlish giggle. Those two…it was so obvious they were in love with each other. The clues were everywhere.

Like, how the boy always acted so cold and indifferent. Well, indifferent to everyone but Tsuzuki, that is. And how Hisoka was always on Tsuzuki's mind, even when he was visiting her in Gensoukai - he had nothing but praise for that kid.

_Really_.

Always on his mind…

How much of her precious time had she wasted time thinking about that no-good serpent? Today wasn't the first day he'd been in her thoughts.

It was always half-consciously - almost sub-consciously - in the back of her mind, and if she were interrupted (which was often), it was like waking reluctantly from a dream.

She wouldn't be…

Not with…

It wasn't _love_, was it?

Her mind hurried to deny this. Of course she wasn't in love. And if she was, why would it be with _him_?

She was Suzaku, a bird of fire. _He_ was a disgusting snake. Birds and snakes have always been enemies; rivals since the beginning of time.

Has. Is. Will always.

But…

But…

But…

Why _shouldn't_ she like him? He was strong, and dependable, and that incident with Tsuzuki wasn't really his fault since Tsuzuki had ordered it, and, he was always so _nice_. Maybe not always to her, and maybe in a distant, quiet, untrusting way, but he _was_ nice. He was nice, and quiet, and really not all that hard on the eyes, and his fire was pretty beautiful if you liked that sort of thing (which she did), and…

Suzaku groaned.

No _way_.

* * *

**Gah. Another romanc-y story...**

**But really? I love Suzaku x Touda. It's such a pity there aren't more of those stories out there...**


	13. Forgiven

****

**Wow, it's an update! O.o**

**Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry...two months is an unforgivable amount of time. But...at least here's an update now...right?**

**I'm sure you don't want to read all of my excuses, so...**

* * *

"It's a magic sword," the wizard had said.

And so it was.

* * *

The sky was a heavy, swirling mass of grey. The town was grey as well, different shades of concrete and looming apartments all massed together into an unrecognizable blotch on the map. Even the dusty crates that were stacked up high against the low stone wall were dusted with a grey dirt that seemed to be everywhere in this town.

The sword slapped against Hisoka's thigh, banging in the wind. That was to be expected. The sword seemed to revel in doing whatever it took to annoy him.

The poke was not expected.

"Your sword seems funny. It's not a katana. What is it?"

Hisoka whirled around, hands clenched in fists, ready to fight whoever it was that was speaking. It was only when he thought to look down, did he realize who it was.

"Who are you?" Hisoka demanded the child.

The child's violet eyes glowed with trust. "I'm Asato...Asato Tsuzuki! Who are you?"

Hisoka hesitated, then answered. "Hisoka."

Tsuzuki beamed. "Hello, Hisoka! Are you from out of town? You don't look familiar."

Hisoka scowled. "I should be asking you the same thing. What are you—seven? Where's your parents?"

"I'm eight," Tsuzuki frowned.

"Well, what about your parents?"

"Parents?" he cocked his head. "I don't have any."

"Oh! I'm sorry." Hisoka blinked, and suddenly, Tsuzuki was sitting on the low stone wall, legs outstretched before him.

_Wha-? How?_ Hisoka wondered. _How did he move so fast...?_

Tsuzuki smiled again. "Don't be. Uncle Konoe's been talking good care of us."

Hisoka cocked an eyebrow. "Us?"

As if he had spoken some magic word, two other heads poked over the wall.

"So that's where you've been hiding!" a blonde boy exclaimed.

"Uncle Konoe's been looking for you," the other, brown-haired boy said. "Who's this?"

"Watari! Tatsumi! Look who I've found," Tsuzuki said happily. "He has a funny sword and he says his name's Hisoka."

"Hi, Hisoka!" Watari waved, vaulting over the wall and landing on his feet in front of Hisoka. "Nice to meet you."

"Hey, you should come to our house. Have dinner," Tatsumi suggested.

Hisoka hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Why not? At least he would get a free - hopefully hot - meal for once, even if it _was_ with a strange group of kids and whoever this 'Uncle Konoe' person was.

Tsuzuki laughed. "Yes! C'mon!" He jumped off and grabbed Hisoka's hand and, before he could stop him, began tugging Hisoka away. "You never answered my question about your sword. You can tell us all about it during dinner!"

"But...I-" The rest of what Hisoka was saying was lost as he was dragged deeper into the town.

* * *

Tsuzuki, Watari, and Tatsumi's house wasn't much, just a small concrete block with a few well-grown flowers in broken pots beside the door.

"Those are petunias, and those are violets, and _those_ are daisies..." Tsuzuki was busy pointing out the different types of flowers while Hisoka nodded and pretended to understand.

Watari ran ahead and wrenched open the door. "Hey, Uncle!" he shouted. "We have a guest!"

"Really?" A deep, gruff voice grunted from within.

Hisoka had enough time to stand up straight when a middle-aged, wrinkled man limped to the doorway. "Hmm. You must be our guest," he said, holding out his hand. "I'm Konoe."

Carefully, Hisoka shook his hand. Konoe had a warm but firm grip, rough from too many years of hard work. "I'm Hisoka," he replied, smiling slightly.

"Whoa!" Watari exclaimed from beside the door. "That's the first time you've smiled. You're like Tatsumi, almost!"

Tatsumi huffed. "I am not like that."

"Guys! That's not nice!" Tsuzuki admolished. Then he turned to Hisoka. "Why don't you join dinner with us?"

Hisoka nodded. "Didn't I already agree?"

Inside, their house was just as small as the building's outside appearance suggested. Sheets and blankets were folded neatly along the back wall, while a wooden table was placed against another. In the centre was an old-looking woodstove.

"Make yourself at home," Konoe said, pointing to the wooden chairs that surrounded the table, then lifted a pot off the stove.

Carefully, Hisoka slipped into a chair as Tsuzuki, Watari, and Tatsumi plopped themselves down with easy familiarity.

For a moment, Hisoka was almost overwhelmed by sadness. _Is this what it was like to have a home?_ he thought. A clatter of bowls on the table jerked him out of his thoughts.

"Here you go," Konoe said, pouring something from the pot into his bowl. "Sorry it isn't much."

Isn't much? Hisoka glanced down at the meat and vegetable stew in the bowl before him.

"It smells good," he told him truthfully. "Homey."

Konoe smiled. "Then eat up! You look too thin for your own good."

Sighing internally, Hisoka turned to the food. He picked up the spoon and took a small sip. His eyes widened in pleasure. It was surprisingly good—homey, as he had said.

Looking up, he caught sight of Tsuzuki staring at him. Tsuzuki beamed at the attention. "Good, isn't it?" As if to make a point, he wolfed up more of the soup, lifting the bowl to his mouth to catch the last few drops.

Hisoka could only nod.

"Uncle Konoe makes the best food in the world!" Watari exclaimed, only pausing in his voracious eating long enough to add this sentiment before returning to his food.

Out of the three, Tatsumi was the most civilized. He ate quickly, but not with the animalistic tendency of the other two. He was almost disconcertingly mature, Hisoka decided. But with a jolt, he realized that it was with the violet-eyed Tsuzuki that he felt a strange kinship to.

Hisoka quickly finished his dinner, feeling fuller then he had felt in a long time. He wasn't sure if it was the good, filling soup, or the cheery atmosphere, but he felt right at home here in this tiny house with this strange family.

And, of course, who could refuse the hospitality of someone who just offered to house you for the night?

* * *

Hisoka wasn't sure _what_ exactly it was that woke him, but woke him it did.

Her lay there on the makeshift bed for a moment, staring up at the ceiling and wondering why he was awake. Then he grunted and heaved himself up.

Konoe's house didn't have a proper pathway, but it had a nice wooden front porch which Hisoka sat down on.

The sky was dark, as it always was. No moon—it was the time of a new moon. No stars, either—the smoke coming from the city effectively hid all of that. He found himself missing the comforting light…they had taken care of him where no parents ever had.

Absentmindedly, Hisoka's hand shifted from his lap onto the handle of his sword—a sword that he hadn't even realized he had brought out with him, so used to its presence was he.

"Can't sleep?"

Hisoka didn't even whirl around. By now, he was used to the oddly silent comings and goings of his new friend.

"Yeah," he murmured, quietly, so that he wouldn't wake anyone else up. "Did I wake you, Tsuzuki?"

Tsuzuki sat down beside Hisoka. "Nah." Craning his head, he stared up at the sky. "What were you looking at, 'Soka? I don't see anything."

"Huh? Oh, I wasn't looking at anything."

"Oh." Tsuzuki thought for a moment, biting his lip. Then he brightened. "You never answered my question!"

Hisoka scowled. "Which question?" Throughout the night, he probably had hundreds of questions thrown at him by the innocent-looking violet-eyed boy who sat beside him.

Tsuzuki poked the sword. "You never answered my question about your funny sword. Why do you hate it so much?"

"Huh? Hate?" Hisoka blinked. He thought he was pretty good at hiding emotions…how did this boy know what no one else he had met before knew? And after one afternoon, as well.

Purple eyes gleamed sagely as the boy nodded. "Yeah. You hardly ever touch it or clean it or anything, and you keep shoving it away from you when you seem annoyed. And you practically threw it away when you took it off tonight. And your eyes flash whenever you look at it." He paused, then added. "An angry flash, though. Not a mean kind of flash. I know what that kind looks like and you don't look mean. You're not mean, right, 'Soka?"

All Hisoka could do was to nod and try to keep up with the boy's rapid speech. Hisoka nodded now.

"But if you don't like your sword-thingy, why don't you throw it away?"

His question caught Hisoka off gurad, and the truthful answer flew past his lips without his consent. "I can't."

Tsuzuki cocked his head. "What do you mean, you can't? It's just a sword, right? You could sell it to someone, or give it away, or just throw it into a river, or something. Unless it's special?"

"It _is_ a special sword. It's magic."

There he went again, with the speaking without thinking thing. But there was…something about Tsuzuki that made him want to open up, to pour out all the bitterness in his heart onto the packed dirt road before him.

"Magic?" Tsuzuki's eyes brightened in the dim starlight. "You mean like dragons and unicorns and elves and stuff?"

Hisoka shook his head. "No. This was given to me by a wizard." He couldn't keep the sourness out of his voice, and he was sure this did not go unnoticed by Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki shook off the words like a duck shedding water. "Oh! A wizard! I know all about wizards—Watari told me about them." he exclaimed. "But why did he give it to you if you didn't want it? And what kind of magic sword was it?"

Hisoka sighed, resigning himself to the fact that Tsuzuki was determined to get the truth out of him, whether he liked it or not. "It can't hurt other people."

"So? That's good, isn't it?" he cocked his head, confused.

"No. It hurts _me_. Hold out your hand."

Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Tsuzuki did so, palm facing up.

"Watch."

Hisoka pulled the sword out of its sheath, watching it glimmer dully in the faint light. He mimicked Tsuzuki's pose, holding his left hand upwards as he ran the blade of the sword over the boy's palm. Tsuzuki didn't even flinch.

A thin line of red appeared on Hisoka's palm, right where the blade would have been cutting the boy. When he brought the sword away, however, Tsuzuki's palm was unmarked.

Hisoka snorted, and put his sword away. "It's useless, unless I want to kill myself or something." He caught Tsuzuki's concerned look directed at his hand. "Don't worry—I'll be fine. I heal quickly."

"Why don't you just get another sword? Or throw this one away?"

Hisoka shook his head. "I can't throw it away. It finds its way back to me, somehow or another. And somehow, any other weapon I handle breaks or is lost or stolen."

Tsuzuki's eyes widened. "Wow."

Hisoka stared down at the dirt ground. He didn't say how he had played around with swords and knives and guns and the like for most of his life, and how he felt almost naked without them. Knowing that this kind of feeling faded with time didn't help, as it was almost certainly not the case with him.

"Then why did the wizard give it to you? Wizards are supposed to be wise and all that, and he would have known that you didn't want the sword…right?"

"It was a punishment."

"Huh?"

Hisoka looked up. "The sword was given to me as a punishment."

_What did you do?_ Tsuzuki—young as he was—had the tact to stay silent, but both of them could feel the question hanging in the air.

Hisoka sighed. This wasn't a story he would enjoy telling.

"My family is a small one, but well known in our town. Well-loved, or so I had thought," he started. "I was wrong. We were quite a wealthy family, but not extravagantly so. But one night, I was sleeping when I heard a loud thud."

* * *

Hisoka grumbled a bit, rubbing his eyes and wondering what was the strange noise that had woke him up this time. His mother had always said he had ears too sensitive for his own good, and he was inclined to agree.

But still, the teenager's curiosity would not let him sleep if he did not go and find the source of the sound.

To his surprise, the sounds did not stop. In fact, it almost sounded as if there was some kind of fight going on somewhere in the house. Hisoka's eyes widened from the half-asleep look he had been wearing before.

Slowing down now, he crept forwards silently, keeping to the walls. The sounds, he guessed, were coming from his parent's bedroom.

His parent's bedroom!

Throwing caution out the hypothetical window, he ran forwards, not stopping even as he wrenched the door open and saw—

The man was tall and lean, and though it was dark in the room, Hisoka had no difficulty in seeing the pure white clothing the man was wearing. White clothing that was right now covered in blood…

His father lay crumpled in the corner, half-hidden in the shadows. Hisoka would have missed him if the pool of blood around him were not lit up by the full moon that shone through the window…

The man was holding his mother—his mother!—up by her hair. Dimly, Hisoka remembered thinking that his mother would not like that…she had spent hours combing that flowing black river to perfection everyday. A knife was at her throat…

The man was staring down, and Hisoka felt a chill run through his spine as he realized that this man was _smiling_. _Enjoying_ his mother's pained expression. He made no move since Hisoka had entered the room, did nothing to show that he was even aware of the intrusion.

That was, until he spoke.

"Remember this, boy."

Thinking back, Hisoka wasn't sure what exactly it was that would haunt him the most. Was it his mother's barely-conscious expression, so twisted in pain and fear that he barely recognized her? Of maybe it was the man's voice, smooth and honeyed, a silky cadence that hinted at the malice beneath. Or maybe it was the blood, spurting silver in the moonlight.

Only now did the man turn to him, glasses hanging crookedly off his nose. He grinned, and brought the knife up to his mouth. Slowly, he licked the blood off it.

Did Hisoka whimper? He must have, because the man's smile grew even wider.

Suddenly, the man dropped his arm and bowed with a flourish. "Muraki Kazutaka, at your service," he said, white teeth flashing in the light. "Though not for much longer."

It must have been the teeth. Those teeth, flashing in the moonlight like the blade, slicing across his mother's throat…her agonized expression as her mouth twitched one last time as if she had something that she desperately needed to say but it was too late she couldn't say it she didn't say it because she was dead killed by this man _dead_…

A dark, raw fury burned its way out of his chest and out of his mouth in a harsh, guttural roar. Some part of himself was cringing, shrinking away from this wild turmoil that must have awakened somewhere in the deepest, darkest dredges of his heart because he definitely didn't feel anything close to resembling this before.

With a snarl, he launched himself at the man, heedless of his own danger. This close, he saw that the silver in the man's hair wasn't from the moon, but was actually the man's natural hair colour, though right now, it was messy and clumped with blood and sweat and dirt. The man smelled of flowers and the moon, a sweet smell that could not have belonged to a murderer like this. The man was pale and he wore white clothing that hung around his calves, giving an overall impression of a ghost.

All this, Hisoka only recalled later. At that moment, nothing mattered more to him than to kill this man who had broken into his house and killed his family.

The man's grin disappeared as Hisoka leapt onto him. The man tried to get his knife arm out, to stab the boy, but his efforts were in vain. Hisoka had raw, unfettered fury on his side. The man couldn't stand a chance.

Oh, it was a long fight, or so it seemed to Hisoka. But in the end, he grabbed knife and twisted it out of the man's hands and in one swift motion, stabbed him in the chest.

There was a strange silence that hung around the room then, as a panting Hisoka got to his feet, only to have his legs give way and collapse once again.

Surely the servants would find them, he caught himself thinking dazedly, not knowing that all the servants were dead. The servants would find him, and they would help his parents and everything would be all right…but that's not happens in dreams, right? Because this has _got_ to be a dream…there was not other answer, and in dreams all he would have to do was to get himself to wake up and everything would be fine and he would be back where he belonged, no longer living in this crazy world that has suddenly decided to turn against him, right?

Right?

Slowly, Hisoka's eyes closed and he dropped to the floor, unconscious.

* * *

"I'm not exactly sure what happened after that, but it think I just woke up the next morning and left the house. Soon after that, I chanced upon a town where I met this old man who claimed to be a wizard. We didn't say much; all he did was to say that I had some sort of deep hurt and gave me this sword." He pointed to said sword, now hanging from his belt. "That night was almost twenty years ago, and I haven't aged a day since." Hisoka was pretty proud of himself for not choking on his words or breaking…

"You're crying."

He was? He brought his fingers up to his face and felt the dampness of tears.

"I'm crying," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. He hadn't cried in years, not even that night when his family was killed. And here he was, eyes leaking tears right in front of this strange, violet-eyed boy who had stayed silent throughout his story and now bore a wise, sad expression. _That's wrong_, Hisoka found himself thinking, _a boy like him shouldn't be wearing that kind of expression_.

Tsuzuki opened his mouth, and Hisoka tensed, waiting for the superfluous, weak words of comfort and pity that would surely come.

The boy surprised him, though, not speaking of the deaths at all but instead asking, "You did not have to tell me your story. Why did you tell me?"

"I…I don't know," Hisoka said, surprised into truthfulness. "I never told the story to anyone, not even that wizard, though he seemed to have known already. I…guess I'm just tired of keeping it all in. Tired of life, I guess. Twenty-some years of wandering is long enough for anybody."

Tsuzuki only nodded.

The two fell into an easy silence, each caught up in their own thoughts. Strangely enough, Hisoka did actually feel better after telling the boy his story. His chest felt lighter, somehow, as if there used to be a weight there that has lifted now.

This…boy had helped him more than anybody else had. He had listened, and _understood_.

Even so, there was no way he could stay longer here. The sword was urging him to move on.

With much sadness (and tears on Watari, Tatsumi, and Tsuzuki's part), Hisoka left the small home at dawn.

* * *

The sky, as if sensing Hisoka's emotions, decided that it was a great day to be a pale, light-hearted blue, the sun shining merrily in the sky. The sword, docile for once, hung obediently at his side.

Hisoka sighed heavily and tore his gaze away from the cloudless sky. His feet clomped down the path as if unwilling to follow what his mind had ordered them to do.

The farewell had been difficult. At that tiny overcrowded one-room house, _there_, he actually felt at home for once. Like he belonged in that small group of misfits and abandoned children.

Hisoka sighed again and tried to walk quicker. The faster he was out of this city, the faster he could put all thoughts of Tsuzuki and his family out of his mind. That was the way it was, the way it always was.

Still walking along the quiet—if run-down—street, Hisoka kneaded his forehead with his knuckles, feeling a major headache creeping up on him.

_Put it behind you_, he commanded himself. _Don't think about it_.

This was, after all, how he spent the last two decades—staying in one city for a night, then leaving for another for a couple of days, the moving to a town and staying _there_ for a little while, and on and on. Never had he found a group who actually wanted to take in a morose sword-carrying teen into their home, and never did they make him feel as welcome as he had felt yesterday.

Put if behind you. Don't think about it. Move on.

Move on.

Hisoka continued his mental tirade as his legs began carrying him out of the town.

That was, until he heard the cry.

It wasn't quite a shout, and it was far too strangled and quiet to be a shriek, but it was there, all the same. The sound of some kid who wasn't smart enough to keep his nose out of trouble getting bashed up. The sound of a girl accidentally wandering down the wrong alley at the wrong time quickly coming to regret it. Hisoka had heard it all.

But something made him pause. That small cry had sounded…familiar to his ears.

Biting back a growl of annoyance, Hisoka cautiously rounded the corner. It wouldn't hurt just to have a peek to satisfy his growing anxiety, he told himself.

As he got closer, more sounds became discernable by his ears. The sound of a heavy thump, of footsteps. Heavy breathing. And of a loud, jeering voice.

"Ain't know why your ma didn' drown ya at birth, _demon boy_," some youth crowed.

"Monster!" shouted another voice.

"_My_ papa woulda killed you at birth!"

"Demon!"

The first boy continued. "If she had, it woulda saved us all the trouble of doing _this_…"

Hisoka rounded the final corner. And stopped.

For a second, he couldn't tell the difference between the past and the present. Between his memories, and the scene that unfolded before him.

There was no moonlight, and a narrow street was a poor substitute for the former grandeur of his parents' bedroom, but the image was one and the same.

Tsuzuki whimpered as he tripped over some hidden rock in the street, falling flat on his bruised and cut face. The four boys that were chasing him saw the opportunity and took it, the oldest heaving him up cruelly by the violet-eyed boy's hair.

"Demon boy," the oldest boy snarled in Tsuzuki's face. "Don' try lying an' saying you ain't, 'cause I can tell. Eyes never lie, that's what my ma always said. An' only _demons_ have freakin' _purple_ eyes!"

A younger, fair-haired boy bent down and took a rock, throwing it at Tsuzuki. The fist-sized stone hit him in the shoulder, and Tsuzuki gasped in pain, eyes widening in fear.

"Demons deserve to die!"

Seemingly out of nowhere, the oldest boy produced a knife and held it at Tsuzuki's throat. "You bring nothing but bad luck an' evil," he hissed. "You deserve to die!"

The blade pressed into Tsuzuki's throat.

It must have been the expression. That oldest boy's expression. Twisted with malice and hatred and…joy. Yes, Hisoka could tell that he actually _enjoyed_ tormenting Tsuzuki, _enjoyed_ the pain he caused. That expression, so much like another man's…like Muraki's…on that cold, dark night…

Hisoka wasn't aware that his legs were moving forwards until he was almost upon the five boys. He wasn't aware of his hand playing around the sword's—that useless sword's—hilt until, hit a practiced jerk, he pulled it out and pointed it evenly at the oldest boy, its needle-shape point gleaming not an inch from his nose.

"Let go of the boy," Hisoka said in a calm, strict voice that surprised even himself. "Let go of this boy that you call a 'demon'. As far as I know, he has done nothing to harm you and your my opinion, the only monster here is…_you._" He all but spat out that last word; hurled it with as much hatred as he could muster in the boy's face. "Leave him alone and go, unless you want to see how _I_ deal with monsters and petty boys such as yourself."

The boy hesitated, then focused at the blade that hovered dangerously close to his face. The blade that couldn't have harmed him at all, of course, but the boy didn't need to know that.

The boy turned tail and ran away, closely followed by his three friends.

Hisoka waited until they were out of sight before dropping his arm. He gazed at the sword for a moment, just before returning it to its sheathe. _Heh. Maybe it's not as useless after all._

For the second time in two days, Hisoka felt as if something were being lifted from his shoulders. He _wanted_ to help that boy, save Tsuzuki. Perhaps by doing that, he would reclaim just a little bit of what he had lost.

Then he turned to face Tsuzuki, who was most likely just starting the first stages of hysteria and prepared himself for what he thought would be a blubbering child. What he was not prepared for, however, was a completely dry-eyed, sane, _smiling_, boy.

"You finally figured it out," Tsuzuki beamed.

Hisoka blinked. "Huh?"

"The proper use for that sword."

"Sword? This?" Hisoka pointed incredulously at his belt. Wait…wasn't this boy almost killed just a few minutes ago? Shouldn't they be talking about _him_?

"It's not useless at all," Tsuzuki informed him. "I had it all figured out form last night. Why you didn't age…it was because you never moved on, never forgave yourself for that night. You blamed yourself for your parents' deaths. You think that you should have died that night. Actually, you're like that magic sword, you hurt yourself, never actually getting anything done. You live in the past, and because of that, you are still what you were then. You didn't change."

What was with this boy? Hisoke thought. To say such truths with such an innocent yet wise face, to say such _truths_. Because this, he realized now, was the reason for everything.

"I think that's why that wizard-guy gave you that sword in the first place, 'Soka," Tsuzuki mused, "He hoped it would show you what was really going on. He sensed the anger in you, and found a way to keep you from lashing out at others, so maybe one day you would figure things out for yourself."

"Huh? Who are you? _What_ are you?" Hisoka was beginning to wonder if that boy's claims about Tsuzuki being a demon were actually true.

Tsuzuki smiled, brilliant violet eyes flashing. "A friend."

Then he continued, brightly now. "You never forgave yourself for that night, thinking that you should have saved your parents or at least have dies trying. But now, faced with the same situation, you _did_ save someone. Me," he pointed at his chest with one finger.

"…So?" Hisoka felt shaken.

"_So_," Tsuzuki declared, sighing as if Hisoka were missing something blatantly obvious. "You paid back your debt. A life for a life, saved in pure of spirit. You've forgiven yourself."

"I have?"

Looking back, Hisoka decided that maybe, just maybe, he had. _Somebody_ must have been forgiven, given how light he felt. _Something_ must have changed, even if this boy—Tsuzuki—makes claims that made little sense to him. _Something _was different.

Looking up at the sky, he decided that the sky looked lighter, brighter today. Happy.

On impulse, Hisoka reached to his hip for the handle of his sword. No matter what had happened, _something_ happened, and he was sure that the hunk of magicked metal had something to do with it. Instead, his fingers found nothing but air.

Tsuzuki smiled. "That sword was nothing but your conscience. Now it has forgiven you, and has returned to where it belongs. Now tell me," suddenly, his voice grew serious and he drew close to Hisoka. "What do you truly want?"

"Truly want?" Hisoke thought for a moment. On that night, he wanted nothing more than revenge. After that…nothing. He had lived on pure restlessness.

Now…

"I…I want…"

"Yes?"

"I want to be at peace."

Tsuzuki smiled. Apparently, he had made the right decision.

He felt a slight tingle at his feet, and looked down sharply, only to find that he was _glowing_. Shining, like some kind of huge light in the middle of this unknown street on the outskirts of some town. And through the warm light, he was…_fading_.

"Be at peace," Tsuzuki murmured. He grinned, that curious, innocent-looking grin that Hisoka had come to associate with the violet-eyed boy. "Bye, 'Soka."

Hisoka felt his lips quirking up in a smile as his vision dissolved.

But not like the way it had dissolved on that night, where he had fought hand and foot against the approaching darkness. This time, he welcomed it, welcomed the calm it brought.

For once, he didn't worry about what will happen next.

For once, he was at peace.

* * *

"That was quick."

Tsuzuki gazed for a moment longer at the still-shimmering air that was where Hisoka used to be, then turned to Tatsumi. "Yeah, it was," he smiled. "You know, his heart had always wanted to forgive him, but his mind wouldn't allow himself to do that."

Watari slumped on the curb. "I'd wish you'd have let _me_ handle him this time."

Tatsumi scoffed. "And chase him away with your crazy ideas? As if. Face it, Tsuzuki's the best out of all of us for this kind of mushy emotion-y stuff."

Tsuzuki flushed at the compliment.

Watari sighed dramatically. "I guess. But _why_ in the world did you have to get a bunch of idiots to chase after you? You almost gave the guy a heart attack."

"Er…That actually wasn't part of my plan," Tsuzuki mumbled sheepishly. "But—hey! It worked out in the end, didn't it?"

Tatsumi groaned. "You actually had a plan?"

"Um…no."

Watari stared up at the sky. "Well, he got his wish, didn't he? To be free, to be forgiven, to be at peace."

Tsuzuki followed his gaze. "Yeah, he did."

There was a pause, heavy with silent thoughts.

Then, "Uncle Konoe said he wanted to make bread for dinner. Who wants to help?"

Laughing, they ran off into the maze of buildings that made up their town.

* * *

**To think...that took two weeks to pound out. But, I am quite fond of this story. I like writing Tsuzuki as a strange, inquisitive little kid - it's fun! :)**

**Actually, this story was kind-of-ish inspired by the modern-fantasy stories written by Charles de Lint. And the actual sword-idea was something I got while watching Inuyasha...**

**Hopefully, the next update wouldn't take as long.**

**Feedback will be appreciated!**


	14. Colds & Other Joys of the Holiday Season

**1. Deck the halls with boughs of holly**

"Fa la la la la, la la la la," Tsuzuki hummed under his breath. He gazed contentedly around the hallway at his decorations.

"Tsuzuki!"

Tsuzuki jumped and automatically backed up a step—forgetting that on a stepladder, there _was_ no step behind him. He crashed to the ground, sending baskets of green and red vegetation into the air.

"Gah!" Hisoka ducked a flying basket. Then he turned to the half-buried shinigami.

Tsuzuki grinned. "Hi, Hisoka."

"Tsuzuki! Why is there a _tree_ in the break room?" Hisoka demanded.

"A tree?" Tsuzuki cocked his head for a moment, thinking. "Oh, that. Did you like the cookies I hung from it? I couldn't find ornaments, so I..."

"And why are you hanging spiky plants on the walls?"

"Oh! You mean the holly?"

"That _what_?"

"The spiky plant," Tsuzuki clarified. He stood up and shoved a bough of it in Hisoka's face. "See? It's a Christmas decoration. And it's almost Christmas so I decided to start decorating the Department."

"It is?" Oh, wait. Hisoka thought for a moment. It was December 24th, the eve of the Western holiday of Christmas, or something. He'd once read about it in a book. "You can't even tell it's Christmas! It's spring all year here." Through the window at the end of the hallway, he could see the branches of sakura trees waving, as if agreeing with him.

"Yeah, but it's such a fun holiday. I tried to get Tatsumi to give us a day off, but he threatened to cut my pay check again." Tsuzuki scowled, remembering. "That guy has no holiday spirit whatsoever."

"And yet he let you take a break from work and cover the hallway with _holly_?"

"No," Tsuzuki admitted. "But I have Watari helping me, so we could hopefully finish before he notices."

Before he notices? Green and red everywhere isn't exactly what Hisoka would call subtle. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Tsuzuki peered at Hisoka. "You don't seem very happy."

Hisoka snorted, looking away. "Why should I?"

"What? Don't you like Christmas?"

"For me, Christmas is just like any other time of the year." He shrugged. Outside, the sakura branches waved, nodded.

Tsuzuki gasped. "What? How can you not care about Christmas?"

Watari poked his head around the bend, a Santa hat resting on his blonde hair. "What? _Who_ doesn't care about _what_?" He caught sight of Hisoka. "No way!"

"This needs to be fixed!" Tsuzuki agreed.

"What's this?" Tatsumi rounded the bend, a stack of papers in his arms. "Why isn't anyone working? And what's with all the green?"

**2.** **You better watch out, you better not cry, better not pout, I'm telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town**

"What's this?" Chief Konoe looked up from his desk to see a blithely beaming Tsuzuki and a darkly glowering Hisoka.

"Merry day-before-Christmas!" Tsuzuki greeted. He picked up a mug from the top of the brightly-decorated basket in Hisoka's arms. "This is for you."

"Ah…" Konoe picked up the red mug. On it were several scribbles made in green and yellow paint. He could almost see an evergreen and a star…if he exercised his imagination, at least.

Tsuzuki smiled sheepishly. "Watari helped," he said, as way of explanation.

"I still don't get why _I_ had to help," Hisoka mumbled.

"Because you wanted to, of course!"

"I don't remember saying that." He paused. "Well, at least I didn't have to wear those stupid reindeer antlers."

"Well, I thought they were cute!"

Konoe rubbed his eyes. "And _who's_ working while you're doing all this, Tsuzuki?"

"Hey, it's the spirit of Christmas! Give us a break!"

**3. Silent night…**

Or not.

"Tsuzuki! Listen—how about _I_ cook?"

Hisoka hurried to grab the cooking ingredients and utensils from a protesting Tsuzuki's hands, wondering for perhaps the tenth time that night _why _he was at Tsuzuki's apartment in the first place.

"But…"

"Not buts," Hisoka repeated. He pushed him out of the kitchen, into a chair. "And don't even _think_ about touching the food until I'm done."

Why was he here, and not curling up in his own home with a book? Well, he'll only say that Tsuzuki's puppy eyes were _very_ persuasive. He sighed.

"Whoa! This is good!" Tsuzuki dug into the food with his typical enthusiasm. He finished it, leaned back, then noticed Hisoka was only picking at his food. "What's wrong?"

Silence.

"Helllo? Hisoka?" Tsuzuki waved his hand before Hisoka's face. Hisoka's eyes focused and he jerked away.

"Tsuzuki! Don't do that!"

"Sorry!" Tsuzuki let his hand drop, satisfied that the younger shinigami had snapped out of whatever reverie he had been in. "Is there a problem?"

Hisoka shrugged. "Whatever." Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a green-and-blue wrapped packaged placed against the wall. Surprisingly, that was the only Christmas-like thing in the house. "What's that?" he asked, pointing.

"Nothing, nothing! Just a Christmas present for a friend," Tsuzuki waved his hand dismissively. Then he turned and sneezed. "S'cuse me. Man, it's cold. Anyway, what do you want to do tomorrow? Give out presents again? Bake cookies? I used up all of mine decorating the Christmas tree…"

Hisoka was drifting off again, his eyes staring at something just off to the right of Tsuzuki's shoulder. Tsuzuki checked behind him to make sure nothing was wrong with the wall.

Finally, Hisoka sighed. "I never liked the holidays."

"Uh…what?"

"Too many parties…too many people getting drunk…too much of the so-called holiday spirit. It gives me a headache." There were many times where Hisoka wished he wasn't empathic, and Christmas was one of them.

"…Oh," Tsuzuki said. He felt guilty for not realizing it before. Still, at least Hisoka was opening up to him. That had to count for something, right?

Another pause, the silence stretching out for longer than the first time.

"Do you know why I like Christmas so much? Even though it's a Western holiday and all." Tsuzuki said finally.

"Why?" Hisoka's skin was still tinged a faint pink. _Why did he have to say so much before?_

"Because everyone's so happy!" Tsuzuki replied, smiling. "It's impossible to feel sad on Christmas."

"…Oh. Yeah, I guess." Hisoka stood up. "Well, I guess I should go."

"Hmm? Why so soon?"

"'Cause I need to sleep, baka."

"I'll walk you home."

Hisoka coughed. "I think I'm perfectly able to walk home myself." He slipped on his jacket and shoes. "Bye."

"Merry Christmas eve!" Tsuzuki waved from the doorway as Hisoka walked away.

Once he left, Tsuzuki turned his gaze onto the green-and-blue-wrapped present sitting against the wall.

**4. Said the night wind to the little lamb—do you see what I see? Way up in the sky, little lamb—do you see what I see?**

What Hisoka saw out his window just as he fell asleep: sakura branches, waving in the night breeze.

What Hisoka heard in the morning just as he woke up: his doorbell, ringing.

What Hisoka saw when he opened his door on Christmas day: green and blue. A package.

The one he saw in Tsuzuki's home yesterday night. He stared at it lying on his doorstep, then picked it up and brought it inside.

What was scrawled (in easily recognizable messy handwriting) on the card:

_To Hisoka,_

_I know you don't really like Christmas, but I wanted to give you a present anyway. Merry Christmas Hisoka!_

_Tsuzuki._

Hisoka frowned. It was a long way from Tsuzuki's house to his, and Tsuzuki didn't even own a bicycle. Did he walk all the way over here in the cold air? Come to think of it, Tsuzuki sounded like he had a cold yesterday…

This present was _heavy_. Hisoka dropped it onto the table.

He carefully peeled off the wrapping paper, revealing a pile of several books, many of them hardcover. He read the spines, noting that they were all by his favorite authors. For Tsuzuki, a shinigami perpetually on the brink of being broke, this must have cost a fortune.

And Hisoka didn't think to get _him_ a gift in return.

Gah. Now what?

**5. Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer had a very shiny nose**

"Achoo!" Tsuzuki sneezed. He grabbed a tissue from a nearby box and blew his nose.

Unfortunately for him (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it), Tatsumi's box was the closest. Tatsumi looked up from his paperwork and frowned.

"Sorry," Tsuzuki said, somewhat nasally.

Tatsumi just nodded, then asked, "Where's Hisoka?" It was unlike the younger boy to be late for work…though the older partner held no such reputation. Strangely enough, Tsuzuki was actually on time today.

Next thing you'll know, there'll be pigs flying outside his window.

"I don't know," Tsuzuki replied, brow furrowing. "I hope he's okay." Then he sneezed again.

"Are you sick? If so, you should go home."

"Shinigami don't get sick!"

"You _will_ go home," Tatsumi replied sternly. He glared at the protesting Tsuzuki. "Or would you rather have everyone else in the building catch whatever you have?"

"But…no. Fine, I'll go home. Would you—?"

"Yes, yes. I'll give out the presents in your place." Not that he really wanted to. Maybe he could hand them off to Watari…though that might not be a particularly smart thing to do.

"Okay, then." Tsuzuki smiled, and closed the door behind him. "Bye!"

A couple seconds later: "Oh wait."

The door cracked open just enough for Tsuzuki to grab his trademark black coat off the rack next to the door. "I forgot this."

The door slammed shut again.

Tatsumi put down his pen and sighed. Honestly, dealing with that shinigami was like talking to a child. He gazed at the pile of gifts and cards Tsuzuki left in the room, dreading what he would have to do later. Why, for goodness sake, did Tsuzuki have to be so generous?

He picked up the pen and continued his work.

And all was quiet through the office again.

"Tatsumi!"

He looked upwards, fully expecting to see sheepish violet-eyes saying he'd left something-or-another - and do you know where it is? He wasn't expecting…

"Hisoka?"

"Hi, Tatsumi." Hisoka was holding a package in his arms. "Sorry I'm late. Do you know where Tsuzuki is?"

"Tsuzuki? I just sent him home. He has a cold."

"Oh." Hisoka shifted around, trying to find a more comfortable way to hold the box. "Do you mind if I come back later today? I've got something I need to do."

Tatsumi raised an eyebrow. "You can."

"Thanks, Tatsumi."

For the third time that day, the door slammed shut.

Tatsumi sighed. He knew better than to ask.

**6. On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me…a partridge in a pear tree**

Tsuzuki sipped the hot water, burning his tongue. He wished it was hot chocolate.

Maybe he could make some…

But even he knew better than to drink _that_ when he was sick.

Being sick was no fun.

He was sitting in a chair, the same one Hisoka had been sitting in last night. Speaking of Hisoka, he wondered if he liked the present he got for him. He left it on the front step of Hisoka's house, knowing the boy probably preferred opening his present by himself, in his own house, than say, in the break room with everyone watching.

Tsuzuki took another sip of water, more carefully this time.

Now what? It was Christmas, and he was stuck inside with a cold. What did he have to do—

There was a knock on the door, interrupting his thoughts.

"Hey, Tsuzuki? Can I come in?"

Well, there was the answer.

"Hisoka!" Tsuzuki opened his door as Hisoka stepped inside.

Hisoka held out the present out to Tsuzuki. "Here," he said stiffly.

"Hmm?" Tsuzuki took it from him and opened it. He smile. "Thanks, 'soka!"

"Sorry it's not much…"

"What do you mean? I love it!" In the box lay a freshly-baked, warm apple pie. "But I thought you didn't celebrate Christmas."

Hisoka looked away, still a little embarrassed by the talk last night. "Well, I had to give you _something_, right?" He paused, then reached inside his pocket and pulled out a small bottle. "For your cold. Hey…do you mind if I stay here for a while?" He had to admit, he didn't really _want_ to go back to work. Not on this day.

Tsuzuki's grin widened. "Of course. It's Christmas!"

Outside, the sakura branches waved, pink petals falling to the ground like snow.

* * *

**I hoped you had as much fun reading that as I did writing it. I'm a little rusty writing Yami no Matsuei, but I hope you liked it anyway. And yes, all the numbered, bolded lines are lines from popular Christmas carols. I'm sure you know most of them, at least :)**

**7. We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!**

**Happy Holidays! :)**


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